Double Life
by Peggy Schultz
Summary: When Sara found his lifeless body it nearly destroyed her. When the team discovers he had a secret life he had hidden from them it will shatter everything that they believe. Chapter 15 added.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: All characters of the show CSI belong to CBS. The story belongs to us. We are not making any money from this.

Title: Double Life

Authors: Peggy Schultz and Master Adana

Timeline: Set before the lab explosion.

Rating: PG-13 or R

Summary: When Sara found his lifeless body it nearly destroyed her. When the team discovers he had a secret life he had hidden from them it will shatter everything that they believe.

**Double Life**

**Prologue**

Greg sat silently in the break room as he took a sip of his favorite coffee. In two hours his half shift would be done and he would return to his apartment to pack his things for his vacation. He could not help but wonder if his friends at the lab would miss him while he was away for two weeks. As he watched Sara Sidle, the woman whom had occupied his thoughts so much as of late, enter the break room he wondered if he could convince her to join him for dinner before he left for his vacation tomorrow afternoon.

"Hey Sara," Greg said as she passed the table he occupied when she headed toward the coffee pot.

"Hello Greg." Sara gave him a light smile. "Ready for your vacation?"

"Yeah," he said and grinned slightly when she sat across from him after pouring herself a cup of his Blue Hawaiian coffee. "Hey I was thinking would you like to go dinner with me before I leave? I will be gone for two weeks you know," he watched her reaction carefully hoping that she would indulge him this one time.

Sara placed her cup on the table and turned her dark eyes to Greg. She had had a bad day, nothing had gone the way it should have and now he wanted to go to dinner with her. When she replied to him her voice carried a sharpness she had never used with him. "Don't even think about it. I am not in the mood and you know very well, I wouldn't go to dinner with you, so why try?"

Greg just stared at her for a moment stunned. "You know I just thought that the plane could crash or I could get eaten by an alligator in Miami, and you would regret never accepting my offer," Greg commented quietly. He wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole as he turned his gaze to stare at the hot liquid that half filled his cup.

"Greg, get a life." Sara rose quickly and without another word stormed out of the room.

Greg lifted his head and watched her walk out of the break room. He could not help but wonder why she hated him so much. He always tried to help her if he could, he didn't even complain that she was now drinking his coffee. She didn't notice though, she never seemed to notice. Maybe his trip to Miami, that he and his old college friends had planned over a year ago, would help him forget about her.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Yolanda sat in the large, overstuffed chair, her face pale and her eyes red from crying. She looked up at the two women before her. "He was still alive when I left here yesterday," she said suppressing her tears once again. "I can't believe he is gone. He was so kind to me." her hands covered her face as she shrank into the cushions.

"Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt him?" Detective Vega asked as he saw Sara Sidle enter the penthouse apartment and start walking toward him.

"No, I don't." Yolanda shook her head. "He knew many people, important people, and politicians. I have seen them on TV and in magazines."

"Thank you Ma'am, we will be in touch if we have any more questions for you," Vega told her and turned to Sara. "Hey Sara," she said as the maid that had discovered the dead body lying on the bed of the master bedroom walked away.

"We got a male DB in the bedroom. He was stabbed multiple times in his chest and abdomen. We're still waiting for the coroner to get here," Vega shook his head as he walked toward the master bedroom. "I can't place it, but he looks familiar for some reason."

Sara followed the detective. "I think after a while a lot of bodies begin to look familiar." Never would she have imagined the image that appeared before her, the body of a man, not just familiar, but someone she knew well. Feeling suddenly dizzy Sara had to lean against the wall, next to the bed. "It's... Greg." she could barely speak.

"Sara, are you alright?" Vega asked glancing from the body to the CSI. She looked very pale leaning against the wall. He noted her inability to tear her eyes away from the body. "Shit," he cursed as he stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the victim. "Sara, how do you know him? The maid said his name was Shawn Gregory, talk to me Sidle."

"I don't know." Sara felt like she was going to be sick. "But this is Greg Sanders, our lab tech."

"Sanders," Vega repeated turning back toward the body. "Shit," he said as he suddenly realized where he had seen the young man before. "Come on," Vega said taking Sara's arm and leading her out of the bedroom and guiding her to sit on the couch in the living area. She did not argue and sat on the couch. She was in shock, he realized as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Gil Grissom's number.

"Grissom here." The CSI supervisor answered while he continued with his meal.

"Grissom, it's Vega, we have a problem with the 4-19 at the pent house that you assigned to Sara," the detective sighed wondering how he was going to explain to Grissom that one of his own was dead.

"What kind of problem?" His senses were alert. "Do you need me to get out there?"

"Yes, I think you will want to come personally, and you're going to have to bring another CSI to process the scene. Sara knows the vic, she's in a state of shock right now." Vega closed his eyes hating what he had to say next. "That's not all, Grissom. You know him too. Sara said it was your lab tech, Greg Sanders."

"Shit." Grissom cursed. "I'll be there in a few," he didn't wait for Vega's reply and walked swiftly down the hall in search of Nick.

Nick hummed the tune of a Country song he had heard on the radio before coming to work, as he searched through the contents of his victim's trashcan for evidence useful to his case. He had watched the most amazing basketball game before work, and felt like he was on top of the world despite his current task.

"Nick." Grissom stood in the doorway. "I need you to come with me," he looked at his CSI, dressed in a long smock and rubber gloves.

"Grissom," Nick looked up in surprise. "I'm in the middle of a case. Is there a problem?" But even without the older man's answer he could see that something was wrong in the man's eyes and began removing the smock.

"Yes." Grissom said and waved Nick outside. "I'll explain on the way over."

Nick had never seen that expression in Grissom's eyes before; it looked almost like sadness. It scared Nick more than anything had ever scared him before. He followed his boss out of the layout room without another word. He knew the older man would tell him what was going on, and he did not want to push the issue because he suddenly had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he was not going to like whatever Grissom would tell him.

Grissom settled behind the wheel of the Tahoe. Not sure how to say this he started slowly. "Vega called me. A body has been found in a penthouse," he paused to let the traffic go.

Oh god, Nick's mind screamed, "Sara's 4-19, is she… did something happen..." he paused unable to finish a sentence as he stared at his supervisor's face praying that he did not confirm his fears.

"No, it's not Sara... its Greg." Grissom cringed. Murder was bad enough but to find one of his own was a bit too much.

"What? No, Greg's in Miami, man. There must be some mistake," Nick shook his head. Although he knew it couldn't be true, he discovered that his hands were shaking in his lap as they drove down the Vegas streets. "I spoke to Greg a couple of hours ago, before he left to go to the airport. Man are you sure Sara isn't trying to play some trick on us? That's it isn't it, this is just a trick, a bad trick, right," Nick pleaded.

"I don't know Nick; I do hope it is a mistake," Grissom looked grim as he raced down the streets.

Grissom and Nick had remained silent the rest of the way to the crime scene each lost in their own thoughts about the young lab technician. As soon as they reached the scene Nick practically leapt from the car before Grissom had even turned the engine off and ran inside the hotel room. He was eager to prove to himself that it was all a mistake, a terrible mistake. But when he entered the penthouse ignoring Grissom's yells for him to slow down, and saw Sara sitting on the couch with tears streaming down her cheeks, looking like she was lost he stopped. He was suddenly unsure if he really wanted to see the body after all. When Grissom finally entered the penthouse Nick barely noticed the man bump into him as he entered. Nick just stared at Sara, feeling suddenly like he was unable to move. "Sara," he said finally still standing by the door.

"Nick." she looked up with tear streaked cheeks. "I... He... Oh god."

Grissom entered the living room and when he saw Sara's state all of his fears were confirmed. "Stay here with Sara, I am going in."

Nick nodded dully, but even that simple action felt difficult to pull off as he watched his supervisor enter the other room. All he could do was pray that Sara was wrong. It was someone who looked like Greg, he rationalized, but it wasn't Greg. Greg was in Miami, soaking up the sun with his friends from college; he had to be. "Sara, you were wrong, that… that's not Greg in there. Greg's in Florida," he whispered.

Sara shook her head. "I wish."

"Hello detective." Grissom didn't need to take another look at the body. As bizarre as the setting was there was no doubt he was looking at his dead lab tech. "This is worse than I thought."

"Grissom, I'm sorry," Vega said. "The coroner should be here any minute now." He hated informing strangers of the loss of a loved one, it was ten times worse to inform a friend. As he watched the CSI stare at the body lost in thought, Detective Jim Brass suddenly barreled into the room. He had called Brass after calling Grissom; he knew Brass would have been more familiar with the victim since he had once been the CSI supervisor.

"Damn," Brass muttered as he looked at the body still lying on the bed. "Gil, I thought he went on vacation?"

"I thought so too and what in hell's name is he doing in this get up and penthouse?" Grissom's glare wandered around the ostentatious furnishing and colors. "I don't know what to make of this. I have two of my people in shock out there and a dead lab tech in here, who I thought was going on vacation. This is fucked up."

"We'll figure out who did this to him," Vega assured them as a meager voice from the doorway interrupted their conversation.

"Grissom," Nick spoke. He had finally found the strength to move. When Sara refused to admit to him it was a joke, and Grissom had not immediately come back out looking relieved he realized that it could be true. That realization brought with it a heart wrenching decision that he had to see for himself if he was truly going to believe any of them.

"Nick, get back into the living room, please." Grissom gently moved him back. "Go and take Sara home and you might as well take the rest of the shift off. I will stay here and finish up." he laid his hand on Sara's shoulder shocked by the looks of her.

"No," Nick began to fight Grissom, pushing forward toward the bedroom again. "I have to see him," he yelled. "I have to see for myself, I can't accept it other wise."

"Go home." Grissom took hold of Nick's shoulders, squeezing them tight. "You don't need to see him right now." his voice was low and calm as if he was talking to a child.

"Grissom, he's my friend. I need to see for myself. I need to see him, Grissom you must understand," he pleaded as the Dave Phillips the assistant Coroner entered the room a gurney trailing behind him. "Please, Grissom I need to see him, be… before they take him."

"Go ahead Dave," Grissom said grimly. "I am coming with you."

"Nick, do me a favor and don't look at him now. Do you think this is easy for me?"

"I have to see him for myself. I don't want to see him lying on a slab in the morgue, please man; I need to see for myself that it is really him. Please don't make me do it at the morgue," he had to fight back the tears that threatened to slide down his cheeks as he spoke to his boss.

"Ok, go in." Grissom gave up seeing the reasoning. Nick had a right to see his dead friend.

Nick hurried into the room pushing passed Dave in his rush to see his friend and find anything that would prove it was not really his friend. Upon seeing the body on the bed though, he felt as if his world was ripped apart. He could feel his heart begin to race rapidly in his chest as he stared at his friend's lifeless body. The tears that he had fought so desperately to hide were now streaming down his cheeks one after the other. Unable to stay on his feet anymore Nick found himself slowly dropping to his knees unable to take his eyes off of the sight before him.

His friend Greg Sanders lay on the bed. His eyes were open, but they saw nothing. A sob hitched in his throat as he realized the younger man would never see anything with those eyes again. Blood covered Greg's extravagant clothing and had soaked into the mattress of the king sized bed. He could see the multiple stab wounds which had caused all the blood. "Why," he muttered. "Greg, what did you get your self into?" He studied Greg's body looking for any sign that this was a mistake. Greg's hair was different than it had been yesterday, instead of the ends died blonde and extending upward in all kinds of crazy spikes, it was darker more like it was two years ago. It was also cut shorter. If it had been anyone else Nick would have took it as a sign it was not his friend, but Greg sometimes had changed his hairstyle several times in one week so the change was not surprising. Even the freckles on Greg's right cheek were there, right where they should have been.

"Damn it, Greg. I just got tickets to see a game next month I was going to take you. There's so much we still have left to do, so much you wanted to do. You wanted to be a CSI, you told me that once or twice. How could you let this happen?" He suddenly became aware of Grissom calling his name and he took a deep breath and stood up. As he stood up still looking at Greg's body, he noticed it, the discrepancy that he needed. "Grissom," Nick finally turned to look at his supervisor. "His eyes," he said.

"I know." Grissom was unable to look at the body any longer and taking his jacket off he covered as much of Greg as possible. "I will do anything possible..." he left the rest unsaid. Anything possible of what? That this was not Greg after all but someone who happened to look like him? He shook his head and looked at Nick with sad eyes. "Please Nick; you need to get out of here."

"No, Grissom look at his eyes," Nick demanded raising his voice, "that is not Greg. Greg's eyes are brown, this… this guy's eyes are green."

Dave Phillips leaned over the body to finish his preliminary exam. "Gil." he said into the sudden silence. "These are contacts."

"What?" Nick asked. All the hope that had risen a moment ago plummeted back down with a sickening crash that left him feeling ill. There were no arguments left; it was true. Greg Sanders was dead. "I need to go," he said numbly as he slowly turned and walked out of the room to get Sara.

"Dave, take him out of here please." Grissom turned to follow Nick.

"Nick... you saw him too," Sara stood up feeling wobbly.

Nick took Sara's arm into his hand to steady her, he could feel her trembling beneath his fingers, or was that his fingers trembling. He shook his head to clear it. "He's gone," Nick whispered. "I just spoke with him this morning before he was supposed to leave for the airport. I can't believe he's gone. Damn it, why didn't he get on that plane?" He led her toward the door wondering where he found the strength to walk let alone lead her.

"I spoke to him too," she croaked. Why hadn't she been nicer to him? But instead she had let out her emotions on him? And now she would never be able to speak to him again, to apologize, to hear his off beat jokes ever again.

"Come on, I will take you home," Nick told her as they walked out of the door.

"Thank you Nick," Sara's feet moved automatically.

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_Sara walked out of the elevator into the once busy halls. The lab had been closed down and a new building erected closer to the police station. Silence engulfed Sara when she entered Grissom's office. She remembered that there had been an old tape she needed. A noise made her turn around._

"_It's quiet in here," he spoke softly as he rounded a corner to stand behind her. "Why is it so quiet here, no one comes here anymore?"_

_"Greg, I thought you were...you are supposed to..." she choked on her words._

"_Sara, why is it you never want to answer my questions, but you always expect me to answer yours?" He questioned and turned out of the office before heading down the corridor. He turned into the DNA lab, his home away from home. It looked just as it always did, all his equipment was still there, but there was no DNA evidence for him to process. There was never anything for him to do anymore except wander the halls aimlessly._

_Sara followed him. "They closed the lab down after you...you died."_

_He turned and looked at her as if she had grown a second head. He then began to laugh, "I'm not dead, I'm right here in front of you. Of course I've always been right here in front of you and you've never noticed before. Why would now be any different?" With a sigh he sat down on top of his desk and dared her to try to deny the truth._

_"Because I did not want to see you," Sara admitted. "I was wrong to do so."_

_His head, which he had lowered to stare at the floor, had shot up to look at her. He couldn't believe that she had just admitted that to him. "Why," he asked suddenly. "Why didn't you want to see me? Were you afraid of me? You have to know I would never hurt you Sara." He reached out and took her hand into his and lightly caressed her smooth skin with his fingertips._

_Sara did not pull her hand away, she actually enjoyed his touch. "I was afraid of myself, not you, Greg," her eyes were downcast._

"_Afraid of yourself, were you afraid that if you were alone with me you would want to kiss me and ravish my body? You should know I wouldn't have minded," Greg assured her._

_Sara couldn't help but smile. "Perhaps." she said, her face blushing._

"_You are so beautiful Sara; I wish things would have been different. Maybe if I would have tried harder to show you how much you meant to me," he said raising his other hand up to caress her cheek while his right hand still held her hand. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before."_

_Sara leaned her cheek into his hand. "I am sorry. I didn't know until it was too late." She began to tremble under his touch._

"_Shh… I'm here now, and I want you to know that I love you. I've loved you since the day I met you. I'm glad that you found me here so I could tell you," he turned her face toward him and pressed his lips to her soft lips while his hand remained on her cheek. _

_Sara responded to his kiss willingly, offering her mouth to him like a sacrifice._

"_Mm…" Greg grinned between kisses, "you don't know how long I've waited to kiss you like this." He deepened the kiss once more before pulling away and saying, "Now I can die happy. Goodbye Sara," he said before vanishing into thin air leaving her standing alone in the empty DNA lab._

Sara jolted upright, bathed in a cold sweat. With shaking hands she reached toward her nightstand to drink some cold water. She could not shake the image of Greg and the empty lab. Sara touched her lips still feeling the sensation of his kiss. Unable to contain herself Sara curled up under her blanket and broke out into tears.

* * *

Catherine walked out of the elevator. It was unusually silent when she walked through the hallway lined with the various offices. Something was wrong. The break room was empty and so was Grissom's office. Shaking her head she made her way to the morgue to inquire with Dave Phillips about some tests he had done for her on a body.

Once she reached the morgue she noticed a throng of her colleagues outside the doors. I wonder what is going on in there, she thought. Strangely enough no one spoke a word when they parted to give her access to the morgue, but she could read in everyone's face that something terrible was going on. Her hand shook as she opened the doors and entered the morgue.

"Gris, Dave, what is going on here?" she asked when both men turned their attention to her away from a body that lay on the slab.

"Catherine." Gris walked toward her, his eyes bloodshot from exhaustion and with the saddest expression she had ever seen on him.

Dave Phillips stirred in the background. "Let her do it now before we go any further with the exam." he said quietly.

"Go ahead Catherine." The CSI supervisor made room for her to proceed. But he followed close behind in case she needed him.

Catherine's feet seemed to be filled with lead as she walked toward the stainless steel table and Greg's naked body. How frail he looked with his pale, bluish skin. Her hand covered her mouth to keep from shouting out loud. "I can't believe it." she whispered and suddenly turned on her heels to quickly walk out of the room, feeling nauseous.

Grissom noticed the crowd that had gathered outside the morgue and opened the door. "Don't you have work to do?" he growled and noted with satisfaction that everyone began to scurry away.

"Grissom, what is going on down here it looks like a circus?" Warrick asked as he walked down the corridor where a lot of lab tech's had just passed him. He had heard a couple of techs talking about Sanders. It wasn't anything new because people were always talking about the crazy lab tech, but he had heard them say that they couldn't believe he was really gone. He immediately went in search of his boss for an explanation. He knew Greg had left for a two week vacation, but why would they think he wasn't coming back? He wondered if the younger man didn't have permission to leave for two weeks.

"Warrick there is something I need to tell you." Grissom looked at the CSI.

Warrick looked down at the older man and for the first time noticed that Grissom looked as if he had not slept in days. There was an odd expression in his eyes. He looked sad, as if he had lost... "Grissom, Greg went to Miami right?" he asked as realization suddenly registered with his mind.

"Grissom," Dr. Robins called as he limped toward them from the far end of the hallway. "I came as soon as I got your message; I wish it would have been under better circumstances though."

"Me too," Grissom turned back to Warrick. "No, he never made it to Miami."

"No Gris, don't tell me that he's in there," Warrick said pointing at the morgue. He knew it was the truth, though by the expressions of the two older men that now stood beside him.

Grissom merely nodded. "I am sorry."

"Damn, what happened? Does Nick know yet," Warrick questioned.

"Excuse me," Dr. Robins said placing a comforting hand on Warrick's shoulder before walking passed him and Grissom to enter the morgue on his night off.

"Yes, he and Sara saw him last night while you and Catherine were out on a case." He would never forget either of their haunted expressions.

"What happened, was it a car accident? He wasn't sick was he, because he looked fine when..." Warrick trailed off as images of the lively lab tech danced in his mind.

"He was murdered, stabbed." Grissom glanced at Warrick, wondering how many more times would he have to explain what happened?

"Murdered, are you serious? Who would want to hurt Greg? I mean he was annoying sometimes, but murder." Warrick shook his head. "You look tired do you need some help on his case?"

"Ok, so I guess Doc Robins is here to personally do his autopsy. Do you want me to join you?" Warrick said. He didn't think Catherine or Nick would be able to handle Greg's autopsy, and Sara he wasn't sure how she would react.

"Yes he will. I am not sure if you really want to be in there with us, but your help would be appreciated." fatigue covered him like a blanket. "I need some coffee before I do anything else."

"I'll be fine, I can do this," Warrick assured him. "You go ahead and get a coffee; I'll go and see if I can find anything on him while you're gone."

"Thanks Warrick." Grissom waved to him and walked toward the break room. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table, savoring the smell and taste of the dark liquid.

Warrick took a deep breath and entered the morgue. He walked toward the table where Dave and Dr. Robins stood. "Hey," he said as they turned to look at him. "Grissom went to get a cup of coffee; he'll join us in a minute."

"Alright," Dr. Robins nodded looking somber. The older man shook his head, "Sometimes I hate my job," he sighed as he walked away from the table.

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Warrick nodded as he got his first glimpse of Greg's body. He thought he would be prepared for the sight, but he wasn't prepared to see someone that he had just talked to the previous night lying on a slab with stab wounds marring the skin of his chest and abdomen. The sight affected him more than he would have thought. "Damn," he muttered as he noted the tattoos on the younger man's shoulders. He would have never guessed Sanders as the tattoo type.

"Warrick," Sara had not expected to see him in here. She had to see Greg one more time as painful as it was for her. "I still can't believe it."

"Hey Sara," Warrick said with a sigh. "I know what you mean. He was so full of life and now he's just lying there."

"Yes." she said not able to avert her eyes from his naked body.

"Sara, did you know that Greg had tattoos," Warrick asked as he observed the dragon tattoo that decorated his right shoulder. A scorpion decorated his left shoulder.

She let her eyes follow the fine lines of his body and muscles. How skinny he looked. Sara swallowed hard at the look of his wounds and blushed slightly when she caught sight of his most private body parts.

Dave looked at Sara in surprise but held back any comments he might have had. "Warrick, mind helping me roll him on his stomach. There is more you need to see."

Warrick did as he was told and whistled when he saw two more tattoos. "This is becoming more of a mystery to me by the second." he muttered.

Sara held her breath. This was not the Greg she had known. No, this was a completely different person. She was confused and it increased the pain she felt due to his passing. Another dragon holding a staff in its claws adorned the back of his right shoulder and a Red Rose with a whip wrapped around its thorny stem was on his left butt cheek. Again she could not help from blushing slightly. "I don't know what to think anymore." she said more to herself than to anyone present.

"I know I guess when you think about it we really don't know much about any of us really. Greg always spoke about women and made it sound like he had a date almost every night; you know I always just thought he was exaggerating," Warrick said as he looked over the intricate details of the tattoo on Greg's back. Then as he glanced up at Sara he noticed her attention was drawn on Greg's bottom. "Now that is interesting," he whistled looking at the other tattoo. "That looks like a bondage tat, now I would have never thought of Greg Sanders and bondage."

"Please, I can't even look at him like this and think of the Greg we all knew from the lab." Sara's voice choked while she felt tears well up in her eyes. "This is too bizarre."

"Some things people would prefer to keep to themselves," Dr. Robins said walking up toward them. "I would assume you would not have guessed that I was in a band and perform on stage still from time to time."

Warrick looked at the older man and chuckled, "Now if you told me Sanders was in a band; that I could believe."

"Interesting Doctor Robins," Sara said absentminded. Somehow she was unable to keep from looking at the tattoo on his butt while last night's dream was still so vividly on her mind.

"The thing I don't understand," Warrick ran a hand through his hair. "Greg tends brag about a lot of his exploits or activities outside of work like if he's trying really hard to impress us, so why didn't he ever mention the tattoos?"

"I need to go." Sara said abruptly. She gave the three men a short nod and walked swiftly out of the morgue barely holding back her tears. How could she ever forget what his body looked like on the slab knowing that Dr. Robins would soon cut him open, violating his body in the name of science and crime solving?

* * *

Warrick sighed as he and Catherine searched through the kitchen of the penthouse where they found Greg. So much inside the penthouse did not seem to fit what he knew about Greg. He had heard that everyone has someone who looks like them, he could only hope that the DNA evidence they took would prove that this was someone else. Someone, who looked like Greg, but was not really Greg. As he opened a cupboard he noticed something that actually did match what he knew of Greg Sanders. "Hey Cath, there's a case of Blue Hawaiian coffee in here."

"This just can't be what it seems to be." Catherine stared at Warrick. "Please let us find evidence that will tell us that this is not Greg."

Grissom had searched through the living room inch by inch and all he had found so far were some CDs of the same music Greg liked so much. "I found these," he announced as he walked into the kitchen. He had hoped that this would somehow be a coincidence and just someone who looked like Greg, but so far the evidence taught him differently. "What have you found so far?"

"There's a case of Greg's coffee in the cupboard here," Warrick replied. "I don't get it there's so much here that doesn't fit Greg, but yet there are things here that are so very much Greg. The coffee, the music, the funky t-shirts mixed in with the fancy clothing in that huge closet, even some movies in the entertainment center that I've heard him mention he liked. How the hell could he afford this place and his other apartment? And why the hell did he have a driver's license with a different name on it?" Before anyone could answer his questions, they heard a commotion out in the living area where a police officer stood. Warrick noticed a woman's voice demanding to know what was going on. He wondered if she was the one who owned the woman's clothing and other feminine objects found throughout the penthouse suite, as they made their way into the living area.

"What is going on out here?" Grissom asked irritated.

"Are you in charge here?" A beautiful tall woman demanded.

Warrick had to hold back his gasp as he looked at the woman. She was taller than the cop standing near the door, with long dark brown hair. Aside from her obviously expensive clothing and fancy manicured nails, she looked like Sara Sidle. Warrick wondered if Greg had found a girl who looked like Sara after she had refused to go out with him.

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "We are all in charge here."

Catherine stared at the woman who had just entered the penthouse. The most dominant feature was her face which looked much like Sara's. Catherine cleared her throat. "Grissom is in charge."

"Good then maybe you can tell me what the hell you are doing in my home," she said crossing her arms across her chest waiting for an answer.

"Well Ms..." Grissom paused for a moment.

"Donahue, Kayla Donahue," she supplied.

"My name is Gil Grissom, Ms Donahue." he introduced himself. "Why don't you sit down in the living room and I'll explain."

"Just tell me what you are doing here. Where is Shawn? Does he know that you are here rifling through our things as if we were criminals," she questioned.

"Ms. Donahue." he said outwardly calm. "Shawn, as you call him, is dead."

Kayla Donahue shook her head and grinned. "I knew it, where is he? He's always playing stupid jokes on me. You know once he even had this guy come up to us and talk to him for five minutes about being in college together in California, the guy kept calling him Jeff, or George, or Greg, yes I think it was Greg. He said he just wanted to see how I would react to someone believing he was someone else," she shook her head again smiling at the memory. "Shawn," she yelled. "You can come out now; I'm not falling for your sick joke this time."

Grissom sighed. This would not be easy. "Ms. Donahue, you do not understand the severity of the situation. Shawn/Greg is dead as in not alive anymore," He knew his words were harsh but how else could he convince her?

"Your maid discovered his body when she came to work seven at a.m. yesterday morning, I'm sorry ma'am, but this is not a joke," Warrick assured the woman. With the high heeled shoes that she wore she was nearly as tall as him.

"I... where is he? What happened to him?" Kayla asked fighting the tears that were obviously threatening to fall from her eyes.

"He was stabbed. The maid called the police." Catherine said ready to console the young woman.

"Stabbed," Kayla repeated. "You mean he was murdered, oh my god. But who would want to hurt Shawn. He's a successful business man. He has lots of friends he's even friends with some Politian guy. I don't remember his name though." Kayla walked the short distance to the couch and sat down. "Where is he now?"

"He's in the morgue, right now," Warrick replied. "We'd like to ask you a couple of questions if that's alright?"

"I don't know how I can help you, I was out of town visiting my mother in Las Angeles, she's ill," Kayla said.

"I'm sorry ma'am. Did Shawn ever use a false ID or assume another identity that you know of," Warrick asked.

"In high school maybe, I don't know. I know a lot of people who used them when we were younger, why? Do you think he used a false ID? Why would he do that he's a successful business man, and he's of legal age. Are you sure you have the right person? I want to see him," the taller woman said.

Grissom, who had been quiet for a while, pondering her comment regarding Shawn being Greg, looked at her. "You can, but not today, I am sorry. Do you know the nature of his business?"

"No, he always told me that I didn't need to worry about business matters. He said that he didn't want me to be stressed out by clients. He told me that he didn't want me to work, but I'm not the type of person who would just sit around all day, so I work at a preschool part time and volunteer at the homeless shelter," she explained.

"Do you know where he did business from," Warrick questioned.

"No. I know he did a lot of business over the phone taking client orders and he had a warehouse somewhere but I don't know where. I didn't want to disturb him while he was working at the warehouse so there was no need to know the location," Kayla replied.

Catherine shook her head surprised that anyone would be so gullible. "And you never once wondered what he was doing?" she asked.

"He said he was running business, I have a suspicion of what he was doing, but I didn't have the courage to ask him," Kayla said looking down. She suddenly found her fingernails fascinating.

"And that would be?" Grissom regarded her with the same look he used when he found an interesting bug.

She rolled her eyes knowing they would ask that question. "I think he was selling certain um... items. You know sexual items. Do I really have to go into detail here?"

"No, I think we get the idea," Warrick said trying to hide a grin. "Do you mind telling us why you suspected that was what he sold?"

"He likes sex," she shrugged her shoulders as if the answer was so logical that a two-year-old could figure it out. "He talks about it all the time; he's always coming home with new and interesting toys. I've even seen a catalog of adult toys in his briefcase once when he left it open. I don't know if he thought I would be embarrassed to know the exact details of his business or what. I figured if he had a problem with telling me I wouldn't pry," she explained.

"I see." Grissom pondered. "I guess we all have our priorities."

"How long were you at your mother's?" Catherine wanted to know.

"Four days," Kayla responded. "How long is this going to take? I think I need to lay down or something."

"We are done for now. You may come to the CSI office tomorrow and view the body." Grissom said matter of factly, but somehow the expression in his eyes betrayed him. "I am sure we will have more questions for you, Ms. Donahue."

"No doubt," she mumbled as she turned to leave and then hesitated a moment before she turned to look at them, "I don't suppose you would allow me to get some clothing from my closet?"

"No, you may not." Catherine answered after exchanging glances with Warrick and Grissom. "Once the scene is cleared you can retrieve anything that is yours."

"I had to try you know, I have to dress differently when I see my mother, so I don't have a lot of clothes to wear that I actually like wearing," she said turning again and walking out the door.

"There are plenty of shops in town." Grissom said dryly.

"Yeah, she did seem kind of ditsy," Warrick smirked.

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Warrick walked down the hallway of the crime lab. He was heading toward the DNA lab where the swing shift lab tech was working over time until they could find a permanent replacement for Greg. He shook his head; the lab would be a lot quieter without Sanders. As he approached the lab he saw Nick and Sara walking down the hall. "Hey, did you guys find anything at Greg's apartment?"

"Ask Gris," Sara answered. "He was there most of the time." she did not want to talk about Greg right now. "Nick and I were sent somewhere else."

Warrick stared after Sara and looked at Nick. "You two did go to Greg's apartment right?"

"We spent the day in Greg's apartment, looking for any clues." Nick answered instead and watched Sara walk away. "She is taking this harder than I thought."

"Do you think Sara and Sanders were having a secret relationship?" Warrick questioned.

"I don't know what to think at this point. Sara has not been herself. She missed searching certain areas, seemed distracted, and one time I caught her staring at his picture. She just stood there, oblivious to anything around her."

"You should have seen Greg's girlfriend. Well she called him Shawn, but she looks just like Sara except for the way that she was dressed. If Sanders was having a relationship with Sara, then he was also having one with a girl who looks just like her," Warrick shook his head. "This whole thing is messed up. I don't know what to think anymore."

"I can't see Greg any other way than the way we have known him here at the lab," Nick shook his head. "Wait, what do you mean by his girlfriend calling him Shawn?" his eyes went wide with surprise.

"We found an ID on him with his picture and the name Shawn Gregory. He also had a social security card and credit cards with the same name on them. The maid who discovered the body also called him by that name. Archie is checking the ID to determine if it is authentic or not. Did you find Greg's ID at his apartment," Warrick asked.

"We did." Nick felt confused. "I don't understand all of this. I can't believe that he might have lived a double life."

"I know, but what I want to know is why? I mean his penthouse is tight, he has everything there, and if he can afford it and the clothes that we found there, I don't see why he would want nor need Greg Sanders' life," Warrick told him.

"Normality perhaps in an abnormal setting, my guess is as good as yours."

"This is giving me a headache. I was just about to see what they have for us in DNA. We found skin underneath Sanders' fingernails, and I want to see if the DNA from the body is really his, you want to join me," Warrick asked.

"Yes, I would like to," Nick said. "I want to find out as well."

Warrick nodded and walked toward the lab. "Hey Craig, do you have our results for Sanders?"

"Yup, just finished," the older man frowned. "I assume you were hoping that I would tell you that your vic's DNA wasn't Sanders, but I'm sorry, there is no doubt he's your vic. And as for the skin underneath his fingernails, it's an unknown female; sorry I couldn't be of more help."

"Shit." Nick turned his head away from Craig. "It just can't be."

"I know you Graveyard guys are all a close nit bunch, so I triple checked the results against the DNA we have on file for Greg Sanders. I'm sorry, but there is no doubt it's a match," Craig told them.

"Thanks," Warrick said putting a hand on Nick's shoulder and leading him out of the lab.

"I am sorry, Warrick," Nick apologized. "It's different to investigate a murder of someone else, but this just hit too close to home."

"You don't need to apologize, I know how you feel. Sanders and I weren't the best of friends you know, but it's still hard to think that he will never work here again. That he won't annoy us with his long drawn out answers and his loud music," Warrick said as they headed down the hall toward Grissom's office.

"His music was a bit different, wasn't it? He would get mad if I tried to change the station to country or soft rock." A hint of a smile crossed his face, "And his crazy shirts to match the music."

"Yeah, it definitely is not going to be the same around here," Warrick said as they entered Grissom's office. "Grissom, we just got the results from DNA."

"You did," he held out his hand. "Do I want to know the answer?"

"Well the DNA under our vic's fingernails is an unknown female, and as for the vic, I'm sorry DNA confirmed it is Sanders," Warrick told him.

Grissom sat in silence for a while to let the news sink in. "We have a lot of work ahead of us," he rose. "We better start, Warrick go check the girlfriend's DNA for a possible match. Nick, you and Sara will go to his penthouse," he paused when Nick inhaled sharply. "I know it's hard, but I need you guys right now."

"Gris," Warrick sighed. "I was thinking maybe Sara should come with me to get the DNA from the girlfriend. I spoke with her earlier and Nick confirmed it. She did not handle things to well at the apartment. She's just not taking Greg's death well at all."

"I should talk to her," he said. "Thank you Warrick that is a good idea. How are you two doing with this?"

"I'm alright, I just want to find out who did this to him," Warrick said.

"I'll be fine, don't worry," Nick blinked a couple of times.

"We'll talk to you later Grissom," Warrick said as he and Nick turned and walked out of the office. "Nick, are you sure you're alright to go back to the penthouse?"

"Yeah, I got over the initial shock and helping to solve this case will help me deal with it too." He watched as Sara walked around the corner. "I am not so sure about her," he said between his teeth.

"I know, I'll talk to you later," Warrick told him before turning his attention toward Sara. "Hey Sara," he called after her. "You're with me we have a suspect to interview."

"I am?" she looked at him in surprise.

"Yes, unless you would rather go with Nick to finish processing the penthouse," Warrick told her.

"No, I'll go with you."

"Alright," Warrick nodded.

* * *

Sara walked silently next to Warrick, lost in her own thoughts, until they reached the interrogation room. She felt her heart beat quicken as always before questioning a suspect. "Here we go," she mumbled.

"Let's get it over with." Warrick opened the door ready for anything.

Detective Jim Brass watched as Warrick and Sara entered the interrogation room. He could not help but wonder if Sara was the best choice to bring along. "Kayla Donahue, you remember Warrick Brown, and this is Sara Sidle they are both from the Crime Lab," he said to the woman who sat down in a chair at the only table in the room.

Sara seemed to stop breathing for a moment, but had herself under control within seconds. "Hello Ms. Donahue," she said in a neutral tone.

"Hello again," Warrick took a closer look at Kayla. The young woman sat very upright, almost as if she had to force herself to keep from collapsing. Her eyes were red rimmed from crying and her right hand which lay on the table shook lightly.

"What do you want now," Kayla asked fighting to keep the anguish that she felt from being noticeable by the others. She was marginally aware of the female from the Crime Lab's slight resemblance to her. She noted that it seemed to affect Sara more than her.

"We are sorry to bother you once more," Sara had trouble looking at Kayla. "We are aware that this is not an easy time for you, but we do have more questions."

"Sara is correct. In order to conduct our investigation we need as many questions answered as possible." Warrick added.

"And those questions would be?" Kayla raised an eyebrow.

Brass watched the suspect and the CSI's carefully. He did not know what questions they had for her, but he wanted to be there personally while they spoke to her. He had taken the case over from Detective Vega, who in turn, had taken over his case.

Sara cleared her throat. "For how long have you known him?"

Warrick glanced at Brass wondering what the detective was going to do or ask. He noticed the alertness in his eyes when Sara began to speak.

"Shawn and I have been dating for seven and a half years and we've lived together for five years. How is how long I've known him relevant?" Kayla clenched her fist as the interrogation grated on her nerves.

Sara swallowed hard. "Everything is relevant in an investigation as annoying as it may seem to you. I was told that you did not know anything about his business dealings, how is that possible in such a long term relationship?" her eyes suddenly turned hard.

"Listen honey, I already told your friends that. I really don't see why you need to drag me down here to repeat myself. Can't you just ask your friends for the answers and ask me something original," Kayla commented staring at the woman.

"I was not there when my colleagues questioned you and I am trying to get a better profile of the man who apparently is the same man who was once our lab tech, Greg Sanders," she said coolly. "Here is something original for you. Where did he get his tattoos?"

Warrick coughed. "We are not here to harass you in any way, Ms. Donahue."

"What the hell are you talking about? Shawn did not work in a stupid lab, and I don't know where he got his tattoos. I don't know what you do with your boyfriend's honey, but I trust mine enough not to have to know his every move. I'm not a cop I didn't expect him to tell me the name of every store, tattoo parlor, or whatever he visited. Is that why you are being such a bitch to me was this Greg Sanders, that you've mistaken my man for, your lover," Kayla demanded.

"Listen, Ms. Donahue," Sara growled. "We have DNA evidence that both Shawn and Greg were the same person. And just for your information he was not my boyfriend or lover."

"What Ms. Sidle is trying to say is that we have one person, and two lives here." Warrick interjected in a mild tone while glaring at Sara.

"You know," Kayla said as she slammed her fist against the table. "I just found out that the man I have loved for seven years is dead. Then you come in here telling me that he was pretending to be someone else the whole time. You can't even let me grieve for him before you are trying to destroy everything that I believed. "Now if you are not going to ask me any questions other than informing me of more facts about Shawn that I doubt I really want to know right now I would like to go now."

"Please Ma'am if you will excuse us we will be right back," Brass spoke for the first time. "Sara, Warrick I need to speak with you both outside now," he said. His voice was stern, leaving no room for argument.

Sara trotted after Brass, glad to be leaving the room, followed by Warrick who seemed to be as calm as ever.

As soon as he closed the door behind them, Brass let lose a sigh and said, "What the hell is going on? Warrick you told me when you called that you had new questions for her, something about the results of the DNA evidence you found. If you are not going to ask her any relevant questions I am going to have to let her go. She is right she's been through enough in the past couple of hours we all are, and unless you have evidence to prove her as a Greg's killer I suggest you lay off treating her like as if she is."

"I am not treating her like a suspect, but I would like to find a little more out about this man she calls Shawn. How are we going to do an investigation if she blocks any of our questions?" Sara said defensively, "If you don't like it I can leave."

Warrick shook his head about Sara. "I need to check her arms. for scratches and take dna from her. I would also like to know if Shawn had any meetings scheduled that night."

"Alright," Brass nodded. "Sara," he turned to the woman beside him, "I think it may be best if you just watch the rest of the interrogation from the observation room, unless you would like me to report your behavior to Grissom."

"Do what you feel is right." she turned on her heel and walked into the adjacent room to watch from there. She would not let her feelings get in the way anymore. But wait! Feelings, what feelings? Was she losing her mind because she had a dream about Greg kissing her?

"Get it together Sidle," she mumbled. "You are imagining things that have never been there." She sat down hard on the chair and leaned back to watch and listen.

Brass led Warrick back into the room where Kayla sat absently rubbing her finger back and forth over the surface of the tabletop. "Ms. Donahue, we just have a few more questions for you and Warrick here needs to get a sample of your DNA."

"You think I could have killed him," she rolled her eyes. "Fine, but just keep that other bitch away from me."

"Please refrain from name calling. To lose a friend is emotional for all of us." Warrick said gently. "I need to see your arms please."

With a sigh Kayla removed the sweater that she wore over top of her sleeveless shirt, revealing her pale, scratch and bruise free arms. "Are you going to take my blood?"

"If you don't mind, I might, but first I have another question. Did Shawn have any appointments that night?" Warrick gave her a small smile.

"All I know is he had a date, with whom I couldn't tell you. If you want to know that you will have to check his PDA and his laptop. They have all of his client information as well as his scheduled appointments. Most likely, if he was expecting a date or a client to come to the penthouse he would have kept both of them locked up in the safe built into his desk in his office. I don't even get to look at them, not that I wanted to."

"He had a date," Brass looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Weren't you his girlfriend?" Warrick asked with confusion.

Sara snorted as she listened to Kayla's reply. The more she heard about this Shawn the less she wanted to believe that it had been Greg as well. Her hand on top of the table balled into a fist.

"Yes I am… was his girlfriend," she shook her head. "But we both had dates with other people from time to time. Shawn usually had sex with his dates, but it was just sex. It didn't mean anything. He told me I was his soul mate and I know he was mine. I told you before he likes sex," she explained with a shrug of her shoulders. "Listen, I know you think he was also your friend and I'm sure you are appalled to learn this about him, but his dates were for sex mainly. It was nothing more than a physical act to seek pleasure while I was away. Shawn and I together, we loved each other and therefore it was more than just sex."

"I am trying to understand your kind of relationship," Warrick looked at her curiously. "A bit foreign to me, if I may say so. Do you know his password to access his pda?"

"You've got to be kidding me; don't you think if he gave me the password to his PDA or his laptop that he would need to lock them in his safe from me too? He would only lock them up when we had company over or when the maid or chef's we hired came over." Kayla grinned up at Warrick, "You're a Crime Scene Investigator, I'm sure you know of someone who can hack into them and discover the password."

There was no getting through her walls at all and Warrick decided to change strategies. "I would like to swab your mouth for a DNA sample, just to exclude you as a suspect. Then if Captain Brass agrees you are free to go."

Her arms cross over her chest Sara watched in disbelief. Warrick was actually letting her go. She groaned inwardly as she waited for Kayla's reaction.

"I have nothing to hide," Kayla said and opened her mouth wide for him. After Warrick swabbed the inside of her mouth she closed her mouth again. She wanted to go back to her friend's apartment and be alone.

"I don't have any other questions for you, but don't leave the city in case we need to speak with you again," Brass told her.

to be continued...


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

_He stood near the doorway of his apartment watching as she rummaged through his belongings without realizing he was watching her. He noted she seemed very interested in a photo album that she had just picked up. His mother had given him the album before he had moved to Las Vegas. He remembered teasing her that she was afraid that he would forget them without it. He watched her move to the couch and sit down before she began to page through the pages of pictures of him and his family members. Sara seemed to study each picture as if she was trying to burn them into her memory. He should have been angry that she was invading his privacy and rifling through his things like they were a part of a crime scene, but somehow he had always found it difficult to be mad at her or stay mad at her. _

"_Sara," he finally spoke to the brunette. He noticed as he walked to the couch and sat beside her that she was absently rubbing her finger back and forth over a picture of him after he had graduated from college. "Are you alright? You look like you lost your best friend?"_

_Sara's head jerked up. The book slipped out of her fingers and landed on the floor with a soft thud. "Greg...w...what are you doing here?" she moved to the other end of the couch, away from him._

"_I should be asking you that question, Sara. This is my apartment, I live here." He told her with a lopsided grin._

_Having gotten over the initial shock of seeing Greg, Sara took a closer look at him. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. "You used to live here."_

"_What do you mean used to?" he said glaring at her. He had a feeling he was not going to like what she would tell him._

_Her eyes grew wide. "Greg, don't you know what happened?"_

"_I know I paid my rent on time," Greg told her. "Why is this not my apartment anymore? My stuff is still here. You were just rifling through all my stuff as if this was a crime sce... Sara, tell me what happened?"_

_"Oh Greg." she lowered her head for a moment and when she lifted her face to him, her eyes were moist. "You died. Someone killed you."_

"_But I'm not dead. I'm right here in front of you," he moved closer to her and took her hands in his. He could feel her hands tremble in his. "I'm right here Sara, please don't cry." He instinctively pulled her into his arms and held her tight as she cried on his shoulder. Why would she believe that he was dead? Did she think he was a ghost? Could a ghost hold her in his arms and feel his shirt get wet from her tears soaking into the material? "You must have had a dream Sara, I'm not dead I'm right here."_

_"No, no, no." she wiggled out of his embrace. "I attended your...your ...funeral." Overcome by emotions she fell against his chest again like a child seeking shelter in her mother's arms._

"_Then you must have buried the wrong person Sara. I just came back from vacation in Miami. I am not dead, I am really not dead Sara," he assured her as he rubbed circles into her back. "Sometimes dreams are very vivid and you can feel like weeks have gone by in the few hours that you sleep." He pushed her away and looked into her eyes. "Listen to me, if I was dead how could I hold you in my arms or wipe your tears away," as he spoke he reached up his right hand and wiped away some of her tears. _

_"I don't know. It's all so confusing. Just when I started to come to grief you show up like this," there was a touch of anger in her voice. "I know I did not imagine what happened. It was in the newspapers too." Sara brushed his hand away from her face._

"_Then someone made a mistake Sara. Can you try and believe me someone made a mistake I'm not dead. I'm alive and I got you something while I was in Miami. I know I shouldn't have considering how you acted toward me the last time we spoke before I left, but I couldn't help myself," Greg said as he walked over to his suite cases that sat on the floor near the doorway. He opened one and pulled out a bag before walking back to again sit beside her on the couch. "Here," he handed the bag to her._

_"For me?" she gazed at the bag afraid to touch it._

"_Yes for you. Open it," he told her._

_Sara took the bag into her hands. The pink and blue tissue paper rustled when she opened the top. Inside lay a small box. "What is it?" Sara pulled it out unable to open it just yet. She could smell Greg's cologne that still lingered on the item and breathed in deeply._

_Greg chuckled as he watched Sara sniff the box. "Open it and find out," he told her. _

_"Ok." she whispered. It had been ages since someone had given her something. She opened the box slowly after removing the bow and gasped. "For me?"_

"_You haven't received very many gifts from friends have you? I told you it was for you. Do you like it?"_

_"Yes, I love it." she held up the silver chain and pendent._

"_As soon as I saw it I had to buy it for you," Greg told her with a grin. He had been worried that she would not like it after all he was not certain about the type of jewelry she usually wore._

_"It is perfect. Will you help me put it on?" Sara turned her back to him as she held up the ends of the necklace._

"_Of course," he said as he took the necklace from her and closed the clasp. He then lifted her soft brown hair and let the chain fall against the back of her neck. But he continued to hold her hair in his hands as the smell of her shampoo invaded his senses. "I love the way your hair smells. I missed it while I was in Miami," without thinking about what he was doing he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her neck. Once he realized what he had done he released her hair and moved backward, horrified at what he did._

_Sara sat as if frozen when she felt his lips caress her neck. Was this what it felt like? Why did it have to be when it was too late? Her pulse quickened when she turned her face toward him. "Greg?"_

"_I'm sorry, I... I shouldn't have done that," he said and bent over to pick up the fallen photo album and put it on his coffee table. Why did he always do or say the wrong thing to her?_

_As if it had a life of its own her hand reached outward for his, "It's alright." She felt warmth where she had expected the skin to be cold._

"_No it's not, Sara. I know you don't feel the same about me, you've made that perfectly clear recently. I guess it's about time I realize that huh," Greg ran a hand through his spiked hair, but did not pull his hand away from her hand._

_There, she messed it up again. Why did she have to be so cold toward him? "I need to explain." she looked into his eyes._

"_No, you don't, I..." his words were cut off as she placed a finger over his lips, effectively preventing further words from escaping._

_"I was afraid of my own feelings. You have all this energy and offbeat humor. Look at me, I am too serious, a science geek, a gray entity." she faced Greg fully now, her dark eyes fixed on a spot in his face. "I thought if I kept my walls erected I would not get hurt, but now I realize that I hurt you instead."_

"_You... you have feelings for me?" Greg asked wide eyed. When she nodded her head he leaned forward and kissed her. The kiss was at first a gentle touch to her lips, but as she wrapped her arms around his neck it soon became more intense and passionate._

_Sara allowed Greg's tongue access to her mouth through her parted lips. She moaned lightly when she felt his lips press against hers more urging, his tongue dancing around hers. Her head tilted back and her upper body arched closer to his._

"_You're so beautiful," Greg said between kisses. He instinctively began to lower his kisses downward over her chin and neck before making his way back up until he could again reclaim her mouth. His heart raced in his chest and warmth filled his veins as he kissed her._

_"Greg," she mumbled between kisses. "I am so sorry." her hands found the buttons of his shirt and with trembling fingers began to undo the first one. Shivers ran up her spine when his teeth teasingly nipped her earlobe._

"_Shh, it's alright," Greg whispered into her ear and began kissing her neck again while she continued to slowly open the rest of the buttons of his shirt one by one. When she had finished with the last button, he closed his eyes as she began to run the palm of her hand over the plains of his bare chest. Her touch was electrifying._

_Sara was surprised at the touch of his body. She had always thought he was too skinny, but as her fingers slid across the smooth power of his muscled arms and abdomen she could not help but sigh deeply. She could feel her nipples harden and strain against the fabric of her bra when Greg's hands brushed against her breasts. She had the sudden urge to rip off her clothes._

_Noticing her reaction to his accidental brush against her breast, he slid his hand underneath her shirt and caressed her breasts through the material of her lacy bra while he alternated from kissing and licking her neck._

_Sara let out a deep, shuddering breath while she pushed her tender buds against Greg's hands. Her fingers stopped weaving through his hair and with one hand she pulled his head to engage in a searing and sensual kiss. The throbbing between her thighs increased to a crescendo of fast tremors._

_After they broke the kiss Greg reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She grinned as his gaze fell to her chest. He reclaimed her right breast in his hand and lowered his head to her left. He could hear her gasp as he began to lick and suck her nipple through the lacy material while fondling the other breast. "I love you Sara Sidle," he breathed._

_"I...I...L..." before she could finish her answer Greg began to vanish while she slowly rose from the abyss of her dream._

* * *

Archie rushed down the corridors past various labs to get to the conference room. He was already a few minutes late. With a sigh he entered the room and sat beside Nick at the long table. "Sorry, I'm late," he said laying out a file and a PDA on the tabletop.

"Don't worry man, Brass just got here a few seconds before you did," Nick assured him as Grissom cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.

Grissom's eyes roamed over the assembled team members. After giving a short nod toward the group he began to speak. "Good Evening everyone. I would like each of you to tell me their exact findings. Don't add or subtract anything."

Sara felt as if her head was going to explode. After her dream she had been unable to go back to sleep and only with great effort did she keep her eyes open. She felt Grissom's gaze on her and gave him a lopsided grin.

"I got the DNA results from the dayshift tech to report," Nick spoke up first. "I'm sure by now most of you have already heard that the DNA results confirmed that our vic is definitely Greg Sanders despite the drivers license we found on him that identified him as Shawn Gregory. I know some of you have wondered about the possibility of Greg having a twin, but once while Greg and I were out at a bar together to celebrate his birthday we hooked up with these girls that swore they knew Greg. He pretended not to know them. One of them asked him about his being adopted, he was adamant that he wasn't and I know he's told me before that he was an only child.

"As for what I was able to find, Sara and I retrieved an expired driver's license from Greg's apartment and his laptop which we gave to Archie. And while I was at the penthouse Warrick had called me and told me about a safe where I should find another laptop and a PDA which are password protected and supposedly contain Greg's schedule of appointments and client lists. I gave them to Archie to break the passwords," Nick explained.

"I guess I'm next," Archie commented. "The driver's license that was found at the penthouse was a fake, a very good fake actually. Shawn Gregory, who was from California, went missing nine years ago for about two months. He only had a sister who wasn't overly concerned with his disappearance. The case was closed, however, when a paper trail surfaced from him in Reno two months later. They assumed he just left California, but I was able to find a picture of him, although it has similarities to Greg, enough that he'd be able to pass for him from a distance. I know this doesn't sound right, but whatever happened to the real Shawn Gregory, I think Greg might have been involved. Anyway he remained in Reno until he came to Vegas six months after Greg started working here.

"The license from the apartment was not a fake it was really Greg's. I'm thinking Shawn was just his alias. As for the laptop at Greg's apartment, there were no passwords, and nothing special about it really. I just found games, normal emails, porn and music downloads, everything we would have expected to find on Greg's laptop," Archie took a deep breath before continuing. "I was able to crack the passwords for the PDA and laptop right before coming here, I haven't had time to look at them yet, but if you give me a second I can look at who he was supposed to be with the night he was killed on the PDA right now," Archie said as he picked up the device he had sat on the table earlier. He tapped a few buttons and was relieved that so far no one had argued with him about his suspicions about Greg and Shawn Gregory. "Alright, here we are he was scheduled to go on a date with Gwendolyn Post." Archie took a pen out of his pocket and began writing on a note pad he had retrieved from the folder. He then handed the paper across the table to Grissom. "That's her name, address, and phone number. When I get back to the lab I can print out the entire page for you if would like," Archie told them.

Everyone else seemed to hold their breath collectively and unspoken questions hung in the air. Grissom stared at the page before him in silence.

Sara cleared her throat. "It seems that Greg was able to keep both lives separated." she coughed a few times. "He was very good at what he pretended to be."

Warrick spoke next, a grim expression on his face. "The DNA samples I took from his girlfriend exclude her as a suspect. She has no scratches on her arms either besides having been very uncooperative when questioned." he gave Sara a side glance without mentioning what had occurred at the inquiry.

"I found some similarities between Greg and Shawn." Catherine shuffled some pages. "I wish I had more to report at the time."

"While Warrick and I interrogated Greg's girlfriend Kayla Donahue," Brass began, "I found out from her that while they both thought of each other as soul mates, they had dates with other people as well. Apparently Mr. Sanders, or Mr. Gregory, whatever you would like to call him, liked sex and she didn't have a problem with him having sex with other women because she knew he loved her and not them. She also mentioned that she thought his business was something to do with selling sex toys, but I think she was either lying or too naive to realize what his business really was. Anyway, Archie, I will be very interested to learn what you find out from his laptop and PDA about this business of his. I can only surmise that it was something illegal to keep it hidden like that and use an assumed name to run his business practices." Brass sighed as the more he heard about the man that they all thought they knew, the more he realized that they really hadn't known him at all. "Doc, I believe you are next."

Dr. Robins nodded, "There was nothing wrong with him physically as you can see from my reports, but I did find foreign objects in one of the stab wounds." He extracted two clear plastic bags from his pocket. "I found a patch of fabric and a button which indicate that the killer was very close to Greg when he or she stabbed him. After examining the wounds I have concluded that a dagger was used. It was a curved blade wider toward hilt and with a sharp, pointy end. It has a double edge, but one of the edges could have been sharpened after it was purchased.

"Judging by the depth and placement of the wounds, only one was actually deadly. The killer immobilized Greg with the first throw; the wound is not as deep as the other three," he looked at Grissom. "Whoever did this knows how to handle such a weapon very well. Once Greg was not able to move his assailant stepped closer to assure he would be dead before he or she left him."

Grissom leaned back in his chair. "Are you trying to tell us that this murder was premeditated? And what do you mean she immobilized him?"

"Doc, you are aware that we found DNA under his fingernails, how could he have scratched his killer if he was immobilized," Nick questioned. Everything about this meeting seemed to hit him like a punch to the stomach. He couldn't understand how Greg, who he thought was a close friend, could lie to him on a daily basis.

"It was most likely temporarily. Our nervous system can temporarily become paralyzed as a form of protection just like in some animals and insects." Robins replied.

"Obviously it didn't work for Greg," Warrick said sarcastically. How much more bizarre would this case become?

"Gil, my theory is that she did not go to see him with the intention to kill but the events of the evening changed her plans," Robins finally answered Grissom's question.

"I believe we should wait until we have the evidence to support your theory, Doctor," Grissom said slowly. "While Nick, Catherine, and I searched the penthouse we found CDs with the same music Greg listened to and some of the clothing that was the same as we have seen him wear here at the lab."

"Shawn also had the same taste in coffee." Catherine added.

"Hey Grissom, I was just wondering about Greg's parents. He mentioned once to me that his mom called him every couple of days to make sure he was alright. Since the Greg Sanders name seems to be the correct one I would assume he may have told the truth when he referred to his parents. Anyway, do you know if they've been notified yet," Nick asked and he rubbed his thumb back and forth over the folder that he had brought with him.

"No, I needed to be sure before I call. It will be taken care of after the meeting." Grissom sat up straight both hands on the conference table. "I want this investigation to go as smoothly as possible and without any interference from either the press or Ecklie. If there are any problems let me handle it," he paused for a moment. "I will go over your reports once again in case any of us missed anything, myself included."

"Hey Gris," Nick said looking across the table at his supervisor. "I was thinking, when you call Greg's parents maybe we don't have to tell them about what we found out about the double life. I mean they really don't need to know that Greg was lying to them and potentially into something illegal right? I'm pretty sure that he was relatively close to them and I don't think we really need to tarnish what they thought about him, do we?"

Grissom's mouth twisted into one of his rare smiles. "Nick, give me a bit more credit than this. It will be difficult enough for them to know he is dead, everything else will be discussed when they arrive."

"That's what I'm talking about man, why do we have to tell them when they come here either. They're going to be upset enough, why do we have to inform them he was a liar and a what ever he was doing when pretending to be Shawn?" Nick said.

"Unfortunately they might find out one way or the other that Greg lived a double life," Grissom replied.

"Maybe so, but if at all possible don't we owe it to Greg to not go out of our way to tell them if we don't absolutely have to," Nick ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "Look man, I know that all this stuff that we are finding out about Greg is hard to believe and it really makes me mad that he lied to us for basically as long as we've known him, but I still think that if they don't absolutely need to know that we don't need to tell them."

"I understand Nick," Grissom nodded. "Don't you think I will try to avoid any information that they do not need to know, but I am not sure if it will be entirely possible. I will try my best."

"Thank you," Nick nodded with a relieved sigh.

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Brass stared at the woman sitting in the interrogation room waiting for Grissom and Catherine to arrive. He noted the way the young woman nervously bit her bottom lip as they waited. He had tracked her down while she was working. She had not been happy about coming with him. He was glad that she was not demanding to know why she was there, because he feared that he would lose his patience and start the interrogation himself.

Gwen stared at the bare walls before she lowered her eyes to the tabletop. She could not understand how they found her, but if she played her cards well she might be out of here soon enough. Still she felt nervous and could feel the Detective looking at her.

Grissom and Catherine walked silently toward the interrogation room. They entered quickly nodding toward Brass. "Ms. Post, I am Gil Grissom."

"I'm Catherine Willows, we are with the Crime Lab," she introduced herself studying the younger woman critically.

Sara sat in the darkened observation room. It had been an impulse decision to observe the others but she needed to know what this girl had to say about Greg.

"Gwen," she replied with a curd nod.

"Ms. Post," Catherine said refusing to call her by her first name as if they were friends. "When was the last time you saw Shawn Gregory?"

"I can't remember," there was in her eyes. "Maybe a month ago?"

Grissom moved around the table to sit down opposite the young woman.

"Really, that's interesting," Brass said leaning on the table to look her directly in the eyes. "According to Shawn's PDA you were scheduled to have a date with him three days ago as well as the previous two Saturdays. Shawn was kind enough to make a note of how well the dates went, so we know you were indeed with him last week and the week before. What do you think Grissom, if she lied about not being there for two of the dates, she's most likely lying about the last one too?"

"Apparently so," Grissom cocked his head. "Ms. Post?"

"What do you mean he was making notes about his dates?" Gwen leaned against the back of her chair.

"Well two weeks ago, he noted that you were whiny throughout dinner, but eager to return to his penthouse with him. He also noted that the sex was all right and that you were not as 'wild' as on previous dates. Last week he noted that you complained about only seeing him once a week, but the sex was better as you were more adventurous," Brass told her standing up and enjoying the shocked look on her face. "Would you care to explain why you lied to us about these two dates?"

Gwen's head jerked up, eyes blazing. "That fucking jerk, he used me, that little shit."

"Maybe he was conducting an experiment." Grissom said dryly.

"Ms. Post," Catherine began, "please just answer the question. Why did you lie to us? And you may want to give us a reason to believe you because if you lied about those two times that you were with him, why we should believe that you were not with him three nights ago?"

"Because I didn't want you to know," she crossed her arms in defiance. "My sex life is none of your business."

Sara puffed out a sharp breath while she clasped and unclasped her hands.

"When Shawn Gregory was found murdered it became our business." Grissom leaned forward.

Gwen stared at Grissom. "He... he is dead, but how?" Small beads of sweat suddenly appeared on her forehead.

"I thought maybe you could tell us exactly how it happened," Catherine said leaning over the table and staring the woman, who suddenly looked nervous, in the eyes.

"How would I know?" Gwen hissed, "I wasn't there when it happened, now was I?" Some of her self-confidence had returned.

"I think you do Ms. Post." Grissom leaned back in his chair very much aware of the young woman's game.

"You've already lied to us and you tend to avoid answering some question, Ms. Post. But I do have another question for you. Were you aware that he was living two lives; the high-class life of Shawn Gregory and the more normal life of Gregory Hojem Sanders?" Brass questioned.

Tilting her head Gwen thought for a moment. "I am not sure," her voice softened when she spoke again. "There were times when he seemed to act differently. I ran into him at a club that was not exactly his style and far from high-class. He even drank beer instead of his usual bottle of Dom Perignon. His clothes were more ordinary too, jeans and shirts," she paused, rubbing her eyes. "Sex was the same though. He was an amazing lover and knew how to use what he had quite well. Ever had someone fuck you all night long without ever going soft once?" she smirked at Catherine. "And he said he didn't date anyone else, bloody liar," her mood changed suddenly.

Grissom pursed his lips, but let Catherine take the lead for a while.

Sara suppressed a scream after hearing what Gwen had just said.

"Alright, you claim you were not with Greg… Shawn when he was killed on Saturday night. Would you mind telling us where you were then," Catherine asked. She chose to ignore her comments about sex with Greg for the time being.

"I was out."

"I see we're back to avoiding questions again Ms. Post," Brass said. "You know it has been my experience that suspects who lie and are evasive usually have something to hide, like murder. Tell us where you were Saturday night. You may think that Shawn was no one special to us, but we all knew Greg Sanders very well. He worked in the crime lab for the LVPD, so it is in your best interest to answer the question," Brass told her.

"What's in it for me, eh?" she snarled at Brass. "Maybe your precious Greg Sanders wasn't that innocent after all?"

"That depends entirely on you Ms. Post." Grissom had just about enough but knew that only patience and the right approach would make her confess.

"You know what," Catherine spoke between gritted teeth. "I don't care what you have to say anymore, we have a warrant to see your arms and to get a sample of your DNA. So open your big mouth so I can collect my sample," Catherine told her as Brass laid the warrant on the tabletop in front of her. She pulled a swab out of her kit and quickly swabbed the inside of Gwen's mouth. "Now roll up your sleeves so we can see your arms."

"Why should I? I won't do anything without a lawyer present." once again she crossed her arms over her chest glowering at the two criminalists and the Detective.

"Brass," Grissom turned to his friend.

"Ms. Post, this warrant in front of you means that you must show us your arms and you don't have to have a lawyer present. Now show Ms. Willows your arms or I will arrest you for contempt," Brass told her.

"Bastard," she grumbled but held out her arms to Grissom. "Why didn't you take my DNA instead of her?"

"My pleasure," Grissom pushed the sleeves of her shirt above her elbow revealing several healing scratches.

"Those are some pretty interesting scratches you got there. Looks like the type of scratches from a struggle like when you are repeatedly stabbing someone. Do you want to talk to us now Ms. Post? Because I have a feeling that we will match the DNA we found underneath Shawn's fingernails to the DNA sample that I just took from you. And you do realize that when we match it to your DNA you will be spending a long time in prison. Of course, we maybe able to go easier on you if you tell us now what happened, and this time it would be in your best interest to tell the truth," Catherine told her leaning over the table until she was a few inches away from her face.

"The evidence speaks against you, Ms. Post," Grissom's eyes were cold and hard.

Gwen seemingly shrank and suddenly she fell apart. "He lied to me. He would not leave his girlfriend, that little bitch. He used me for one thing only." her face contorted in a mix of self-pity and anger. "After all the nights we spent together I thought he loved me not her. He laughed at me that day and said I was a fool and naive."

"Go on, Ms Post," Grissom encouraged her.

"He really pissed me off, believe me," She let out a short laugh. "He had this dagger on his dresser, one of his prize possessions. When he wasn't looking I took it and threw it at him."

"And after that, you crossed the room and repeatedly stabbed him," Catherine asked, shaking her head. Part of her was glad that they had found the person responsible for killing Greg, but another part of her hated learning exactly why he had been killed.

"Yeah, he wasn't quite dead. Put up a good fight though." the lines around her mouth deepened. "He should have left his girlfriend."

"Alright, cuff her," Brass said to the uniformed officer waiting patiently in the corner of the interrogation room. At least the rest of the lab would be able to take comfort in the fact they had Sanders' killer in custody. He didn't think that comfort would last long after they discover what the secret business dealings he was involved in were though.

* * *

After Grissom parted with Brass and Catherine he went in search of Sara. It was time that he spoke to her about his concerns regarding her recent moods and behavior. Somehow Greg's death had affected Sara the most out of all of the team. He finally found her sitting over a microscope in one of the labs and knocked gently on the window. "Sara?"

Sara looked up upon seeing Grissom standing on the other side of the window. She sighed and hoped that he had another crime scene for her. She needed to get out of the lab and try to forget everything that had happened in the past three days. "Grissom, do you have a 4-19 for me?"

"No, but I'd like to talk to you," his gaze seemed to penetrate her as he waited for Sara to get up.

Sara grinned slightly trying to hide her annoyance at her current situation. "All right," she said walking toward the doorway where he waited. She assumed that he was taking her to his office to speak more privately.

Grissom nodded and led her to his office. Once Sara was seated he closed the door for more privacy. He sat down opposite her. "How have you been, Sara?" he asked as gently as possible.

"Fine," she lied.

"Sara, you are far from fine. Since we found out about Greg's death and double life you have not been yourself. I need to know what is really going on in order to help you."

Sara closed her eyes for a moment. She had had a feeling that he was going to pry into her feelings. "It's… I…" she took a deep breath. "Greg asked me to have dinner with him before he was supposed to leave for Miami. I was really mean to him when I told him no," a tear slid down her cheek against her will as she continued. "He told me that he could get in a plane crash or eaten by an alligator and that I would re… regret not taking him up on his offer. Then I found him in the penthouse," Sara explained.

Grissom realized that Sara's state was more serious than he had imagined and as much as he wanted to reach out and touch her he knew he would cross the line. He handed her a couple of tissues instead. "Sara, I don't know what to say, but if there is anything I can do for you, let me know. Is there anything else you'd like to tell me, because I do not think you have entirely told me everything I should know?"

"What else do you want to know, that I really wanted to accept and go to dinner with him, but I was too scared and now he's gone forever. Or do you want to know about the dreams that I keep having about him in which he's still alive and tells me how much he loves me," Sara questioned. "I can't sleep at night because when I do, I dream of him."

"Talking about it helps and I am a good listener," Grissom said trying to make her feel more comfortable. "Do you love him?"

Sara looked up at him wide eyed. Did she love him? She wasn't sure. She had never been in love before. She felt lost without him; she regretted how she had treated him, but could she love him? "I… I don't know."

"I accept that," Grissom touched her hand lightly on impulse. "If you need to take a leave please let me know."

"I just need to work, so I can… take my mind off of things. Since it's kind of slow tonight I think I'm going to go to the break room and wait for a crime scene," she said.

"I am here for you if you need me." Grissom watched her as she rose.

* * *

_He could hear her calling his name, her voice echoed through the empty halls, but he stayed still in lab that was like his home away from home since he had come to Las Vegas. He did not want to argue with her again about whether or not he was alive. He had started to doubt his belief that he did still live. If he was alive why was he trapped in an empty crime lab waiting for evidence to process that never came. And if he was dead, why didn't he remember how it happened? The last thing he remembered was speaking to Sara; she had been harsh to him after he had asked her to dinner._

_"Where are you?" Sara wandered through the deserted building. Why was he not answering her? Was he still mad at her after all this time?_

_She was getting closer, but he found it hard to leave his lab for some reason. He remained standing near the microscope motionless. He could hear the clicking of her heals as she walked purposely down the corridor. He knew if he wanted to rush out of the lab to continue to hide from her, he would be too late; she would be there before he made it across the room. So he continued to stand, studying the sterile surface of the microscope instead._

_Sara grew impatient and angry. All she wanted was to talk to him, to explain why she had rejected his invitation. He had to be in here. This was like a home to him. Punching one of the walls she continued her search._

_Still staring at the microscope he heard her footsteps stop out side of his DNA lab. He could feel her eyes on him, as he remained stationary. He decided that she would have to make the first move if she wanted to speak to him; after all she was the one searching for him._

_"Greg," she called out again. "Please I need to talk to you."_

"_Sara, I don't want to argue with you, I'm alive I think. Please don't come here to argue with me again," Greg told her without looking up from the microscope._

_"Greg, you startled me," she turned around. "Please don't do that again. And no, I am not here to argue with you."_

"_That's good. Do you have any DNA for me to process or any cases you need help with, anything?" Greg asked eager for something to do._

_"There are no cases to process. No one works here anymore," she said in a hushed voice._

"_Damn," he grumbled. "Can you at least stay and talk to me," Greg asked._

_"I was looking for you because I need to talk to you." Sara leaned against the wall._

"_Pull up a chair," Greg said motioning to one of the two chairs in the lab. He sat on the one closest to his desk. "So what do you need to talk to me about?"_

_Sara sat down on the other chair. "I want to apologize to you."_

"_Apologize, what for?" He looked at her and noticed how nervous she looked and couldn't help but wonder why she would feel nervous around him._

_"Do you remember the day before you flew to Miami?" she fiddled with the sleeve of her shirt._

"_Yeah, I asked you to dinner and you declined again. It's no big deal Sara, I'm actually used to it by now," he shrugged his shoulders._

_"No, it's not ok," she said adamantly. "I have thought about this since I first found you... dead."_

"_Sara, I thought we agreed we're not going to argue about me being dead," he sighed._

_"I am sorry." she lowered her head. "Still, I was wrong to treat you the way I did that day. I had no right. I actually would have loved to go out to dinner with you," her forefinger drew a circle on the table._

"_You would?" he asked wide-eyed. "Then why did you always say no? What were you afraid of? Did you think that I would... that I would take advantage of you? I love you, I would never do that." Greg stood up and walked across the room toward the door, he couldn't believe that she would believe that he was capable of that. He could hear her calling his name, but he walked out of the DNA lab. He needed to go for a walk._

"_Sara, Sara wake up," a strange female voice echoed through the halls calling her name. _

"Eh... what?" Sara slowly pried her eyes open.

"Sara, you were dreaming," Nick told her. "You uh... you were yelling for Greg."

"Are you ok?" Catherine leaned over. "Nick is right, you were calling his name."

Sara gazed into their worried faces and blinked a few times. "I… I had another dream."

"You dream about Greg often," Nick joked. When Sara did not share in his humor, his grin faded. "Why would you dream about Greg, and yell his name several times. Was there something between the two of you that you didn't think you should share with us? Damn it, was everything Greg did a secret from me?"

"No, there was nothing between us, quite the contrary." she sat up carefully. "I just keep dreaming about him."

"Yeah, and would you have told me if it were true," Nick said and stormed out of the break room without giving her a chance to answer.

"Yes, I would," she said to his departing back.

"Don't take it personally. Nick has taken this just as hard if not harder than most of us." Catherine said soothingly. "Want some tea?"

"Yes, thank you." Sara made her way to the table still feeling the affects of the dream. "I was so mean to him and now I can't even apologize to him."

"Sara what did you do?" Catherine handed her a mug of hot tea.

"I rejected his invitation to dinner the night before he left." She looked at the steam rising from the mug. "And I was not very nice about it."

Catherine looked at her for a long time. "Sara there is nothing you can do about it now; although, I do believe that there is more to it than you are willing to tell me right now."

Realizing that she could not hide from Catherine Sara replied, "I have liked him for a long time, but I let my fear get in the way."

Catherine finally sat down. "I can't tell you what to do, but if you need to talk about it more after work, let me know and we can go somewhere."

"Thanks." Sara took a long sip from the hot liquid. "That would be nice."

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Nick studied the factory as Warrick parked the Denali behind their police back up. Archie had found an address for Greg's business so now he and Warrick were at the location to investigate it. The name of the business was written on the building in red neon letters that spelled Naughty Dragon. "It looks like a typical factory," Nick told the taller CSI as they exited the vehicle and began to walk toward the entrance of the building.

"Can I help you," a short bald man questioned as they entered the factory.

"Yes, we're with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I'm CSI Stokes, and this is CSI Brown," Nick introduced them.

"The owner didn't come in today. He actually hasn't been here most of the week and I know he wouldn't want you poking your nose into his business when he's not here," the man told him.

"Well he won't be in at all." Warrick looked at the guy in front of them. "He is dead. And you are?"

"He's dead?" the shorter man gasped wide eyed. "I... I'm the night shift supervisor, Kyle Smith. Wh... What happened to him?"

"He was stabbed, we already have his killer in custody, but we need to investigate his business, for possible illegal activity," Nick explained.

"Alright, there's nothing illegal that I'm aware of. We fill catalog orders and ship them to our customers from here. Shawn has all the proper licenses hung on the wall of his office upstairs. He always pays his employees on time, and is... was very kind with bonuses for Christmas and birthdays," Kyle told them.

Warrick produced a warrant. "We have a warrant to search records and merchandise."

Kyle shrugged his shoulders, "I would have let you check out the place regardless. If Shawn's not around, I don't know what is going to happen to this place. As for now I will continue to do my job and make sure the rest of the employees do theirs," the man sighed and glanced at one of the conveyer belts that seemed to be getting backed up with boxes. "Do you need me to show you around, or would you prefer to just roam about on your own?"

"No, you can go about your business, but be available in case we have any further questions or need to see any other areas. Looks like you have your hands full right now." Warrick grinned.

"Just another day in toy land," Kyle snickered as he walked away from them. "Miguel, stop line two; you're backed up again," he yelled to one of the employees.

"Let's go and see what else he is selling." Warrick began to walk up the stairs to Shawn's office with large windows overlooking the factory.

The office was large; shelves lined nearly all three walls of the office other than the wall of windows overlooking the factory workers below. On the shelves were sexual toys of every shape and size from simple vibrators to dominatrix gadgets that rivaled some of the things he had seen at Lady Heather's. "Damn and I always thought that Greg tried to impress us with his knowledge of these kinds of things to make him appear to be a lady's man," Nick chuckled.

Yeah, looks like he did a bit more than that after all." Warrick gazed at the various brochures and catalogues. "Makes you wonder..."

"Alright man, I'm going to take the filing cabinet over here, you want to take the desk," Nick asked.

"Sure thing," Warrick tugged his long legs underneath the desk as he sat down. It was a standard office desk with two drawers to the right, the lower one for files, and one in the middle. Surprisingly none of the drawers were locked and after closer inspection no one seemed to have tampered with the locks. He opened the larger drawer and siphoned through a few files that contained information regarding safety procedures and workers comp and injury procedures. "Nothing here so far."

"Same here," Nick said closing a drawer in the filing cabinet and moving on to the next. "I have employee files in this cabinet; the other one is labeled as suppliers and has files on where he orders his supplies, who makes his catalogs, and various bills he has like electric, phone, and so on; and the last two filing cabinets are labeled catalog subscriptions and customers. I do not see anything illegal. I don't get it if he wasn't doing something illegal why the need for a double life?"

"There has to be something we are missing. Maybe it's so obvious that we overlooked it?" Warrick pulled out the middle drawer. "Bingo." he pulled out two copper colored keys. "Maybe this is it?"

"There are not any locked filing cabinets," Nick said opening another drawer to make sure the contents were indeed what they were labeled as. "Maybe there is a hidden safe around here somewhere."

"We could see if we find something." Warrick agreed. "Let me see if they fit in these locks first." he took the keys and cursed when they turned easily. "Damn, they belong to this desk."

"Man, this just can't be right. You don't think that Shawn was embarrassed of his own choice of business do you? It could explain why he didn't tell many people about what exactly his business entailed and possibly explain the need for a second life. Greg may not have wanted people who knew the real him to know about the business and created this Shawn persona," Nick said as Warrick's cell phone began to ring.

"Brown," Warrick answered. "No kidding... ok will do... thanks Archie." he hung up. "Guess what?"

"Did Archie find something else on the lap top?" Nick asked abandoning his search through the filing cabinets to turn and look at his friend.

"Yup," Warrick got up from his chair. "We have another office location for Greg. It's in downtown Vegas, not to far from the strip."

"Do you think it could be another business, perhaps a less legal one? Everything he needs for this company is here; I don't know why he would need another office building."

* * *

The elevator ride to the tenth floor of the office building was silent as Nick and Warrick both thought about what they would find in Greg's second business. After leaving the elevator Nick followed the numbered glass office doors to the right looking for the number that Archie had told Warrick. When they found the correct door, the name on the door caused Nick's eyebrow to rise in curiosity. The name was Gregory Escort Service. "What the hell is with Greg and sex man?" Nick shook his head and opened the glass door.

"Hello," a woman with long blonde hair greeted them from behind a desk in the front of the office. "My name is Carolyn, are you in need of an escort?"

"An escort?" Warrick asked, with eyebrows raised. "No, ma'am we are not. This Nick Stokes and I am Warrick Brown from the Las Vegas Crime Lab."

"Crime Lab, was there a crime committed here? Do I need to call the owner to come in? He hasn't been here all, but he often prefers to run things from home. I can call him if you want me to," the woman said.

"That won't be necessary. I'm sorry to have to inform you, but Shawn Gregory was murdered four nights ago. We need to investigate his businesses for possible illegal activities," Nick told her.

"Murdered," she repeated looking at them wide eyed. "Damn, he was such a great employer. He was very kind; he gave great Christmas and birthday bonuses. And he always made sure the girls were safe," Carolyn said staring at a spot on the far wall. She looked as if she was in shock.

"Ma'am, we will need to access all the files associated with the company and we may want to speak with you and the other employees," Nick said. "We have a warrant." He pulled the warrant out of his vest. Luckily for them the warrant had been issued to search Shawn's business and did not specify a business name.

"Oh put that away," she said waving her hand and standing up from behind the desk. "Do you know how often the police have been here to investigate and make sure that we are not pimping the girls out? Mr. Gregory always told me to give you guys' access to what ever you needed to avoid any trouble. We even have many clients that are in the police force. You guys usually utilize our services for the annual police banquet. Come with me and I will show you to Shawn's office. It would be the best place to start."

Warrick suppressed a whistle. He had heard rumors that many senior officers employed escorts but to hear it first hand was something he did not quite expect. The walls were decorated with original art work and other expensive items contrary to the office in the factory. A large mahogany desk adorned the middle of the office with a large, black leather chair behind it. Everything spoke of a well to do business man without being too overdone.

"Do you think the police officers who utilized the services here could have been helping to cover up any illegal activities that may have been going on," Nick questioned as he looked around the office. It was almost the exact opposite of the factory.

"I wouldn't be surprised. There are enough dirty cops on the Force." Warrick gazed out the window overlooking the Boulevard. "I feel like I have opened Pandora's Box."

"The more I learn about Greg's secret life, the more I keep wondering how I could have been friends with him for so long; yet know nothing about him at all. If he wasn't dead, I would really like to tell him a few things," Nick said clenching his hands into fists at his side.

"I know how you mean. He deceived so many and it seems that even the people who were closest to him had no idea what exactly his business dealings were." he let his eyes roam over the book shelf. "Gris would have a field day in here."

"Yeah, I'm sure he would," Nick nodded. "So do you want to take the desk again or the filing cabinets?"

"I'll take the desk again," Warrick grinned. "Maybe I have more luck this time."

"Yeah, me too," Nick nodded as he started to open the first drawer of the closest filing cabinet.

* * *

At his desk Grissom stared at the pile of papers in front of him. New cases had been put in his care, but he was unable to concentrate. His thoughts kept turning back to the events of the last few days and the death of Greg Sanders. He looked up to watch the activity outside his office. Life went on but he knew that many had not adjusted to the temporary lab tech, who had been scheduled to work for Greg while he was supposed to be on vacation, yet or to the fact that Greg was gone. He picked up his unfinished work with a sigh but lifted his head again when he heard new voices in the hall.

"Are you Gil Grissom," a dark haired woman asked from the doorway. A much taller man stood behind her looking uncomfortable.

"I am," he stood up.

"I am Kirstie Sanders and this is Paul Sanders, we're Greg's parents," she told him as she entered the office. She took a quick survey of the office and smiled as she remembered Greg once mentioning the man's strange collection of specimens in the office. "I see Gregory was not exaggerating after all when he told us about your choice of office décor."

"He did not?" Grissom grinned as he shook both parents' hands. "I am sorry to finally meet you under these circumstances."

"Greg has told us quite a bit about his work. He loved it." Paul Sanders took the chair after pulling the other out for his wife.

"Mr. Grissom, why is my son dead? Who would kill him, he is... was a good boy, he would help everyone if he could," Kirstie asked quietly as a single tear slid down her cheek.

"Mrs. Sanders," Grissom looked at them both. "He was stabbed. And yes, we are still baffled by the fact that someone killed him as well."

"Mr. Grissom, don't patronize me. Why is my son dead? I want to know who would do this to him. Was it some type of revenge thing from someone who he helped to put in jail?"

"Please, we can handle the truth." Paul added.

Grissom cleared his throat. "Greg had a girlfriend, but another girl killed him in a fit of jealousy because he would not leave his current girl for her." Greg's parents sat very upright in front of him with pain streaked faces. He handed his box of tissues to Kirstie whose cheeks were wet from tears.

"Greg, didn't mention a girlfriend to us, and I asked him about it every time we spoke. Was her name Sara? He had spoke of her more than once and I got the impression that he liked her a lot," Kirstie asked taking a tissue and wiping some of the tears that seemed to fall continuously since the man across from her had called them and destroyed their lives.

"Sara is one of my CSI's." Grissom explained. "She and Greg worked together as he did with the others on my team. He was not only a brilliant scientist, but always willing to lend a hand and submit results quickly. But no, she was not his girlfriend as far as I know. He spoke about you mostly but otherwise kept his private life to himself." he added with regret in his voice.

"Yeah, my Gregory could be loud and talk for hours, but at the same time he didn't always talk about stuff that would really let you know a lot about him. He was very good at being evasive sometimes," Kirstie grinned slightly.

"Gregory, was that his full name?" Grissom asked.

"Yes, but he preferred Greg." Paul replied.

"His full name is Gregory Hojem Sanders to be exact, I would have assumed that you would have that information in his employee file though," Kirstie pointed out.

"I do, but it has been a while since I accessed it." Grissom hoped that neither of his parents would see through his lie.

"Mr. Grissom," Kirstie began taking her husband's hand in hers. "I want to see him, I... I have to see him."

"Are you sure?"

"You do not need to question my every decision, I may be grieving, but I assure you I have not forfeited my intelligence in my grief," Kirstie assured him.

"Would you excuse me for a moment, please?" Grissom pushed one of the buttons on his intercom to call the morgue.

"Doctor Robins here."

"Mrs. and Mr. Sanders are here and have asked to see Greg."

"Give me a few minutes and they can come."

"Thanks." Grissom disconnected. "If you like to come with me I will take you to the morgue."

* * *

"Hey Gil," Brass said as he entered the graveyard shift supervisor's office. "Was that Greg's parents I saw you with a few minutes ago?"

"Yes, they wanted to see Greg one last time," he nodded.

"He looks just like his mother," Brass observed. "I didn't get a very close look, but I could see the resemblance from a distance. I figured by the resemblance that they were his parents. How long will they be here?"

"I believe they are making arrangements for the body to be transported back home and they will follow once affairs are concluded here." he offered Brass some coffee.

"I see," Brass said. He declined the coffee with a shake of his head. "Well I think I'm going to head home before I'm needed for a case. Try not to stay here too late Gil. Since Sanders was killed, you've been here more than you are not here."

"I don't sleep much anymore." he waved Brass out of his office with a lopsided grin. "Go to sleep, you look tired."

Brass, turns around at the doorway and says, "You should take your own advice sometime Gil," before leaving the office and turning down the hallway.

To be continued...


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Captain Jim Brass walked down the hall and knocked on Gil Grissom's office door before entering. When the night shift supervisor looked up at him from the mountain of paperwork cluttering his desk Brass spoke, "Did you find anything out about Greg's business yet?"

"Nothing yet," Grissom placed the lid back on a jar on his desk. "We should find Nick and Warrick. Maybe they have news for us."

"I think I saw them in the AV lab with Archie," Brass replied. He wanted to find out what Greg's business was all about to figure out why he felt the need to have a secret life. Then they could close the case once and for all so everyone could return to their daily duties and put Greg's death and everything they had learned about him behind them.

"Let's go then," Grissom walked out from behind his desk. "It would be nice to shed some light on Greg's life after all."

"Yes it would, I just hope what they've learned doesn't destroy the team worse than his death already has," Brass commented as they walked up the hallway. He had become painfully aware of the eerie quietness of the lab since Greg's death and couldn't help but wonder if things would ever be the same again.

"I know. Everyone has been disturbed by our latest findings and revelations. People are torn between shock and sympathy."

"Ah, they are still with Archie," Brass said as they approached the lab.

"Good," Grissom mumbled. "Nick, Warrick a word please?"

"Gris, what's up?" Warrick turned to face his supervisor.

"Is everything alright," Nick questioned glancing between his boss and Brass.

"Well, that depends," Grissom cocked his head. "Found anything out while you were checking on Greg's business?"

"I don't think we should discuss what we found out right here. Maybe we can go somewhere else." Warrick said carefully.

"We can go to the conference room," Brass suggested.

"Archie should come with us too, he's found most of the information that's led us to locate Greg's businesses anyway," Nick told them with a glance at the lab tech. He knew the younger man hated learning about all the information on Greg as much as he did, but it was their job to find the information and share it with their superiors.

"The conference room is fine." Grissom did not look forward to hearing what his CSIs would tell him. "You said businesses?"

"Yes, two to be exact," Warrick answered.

"Let's go and get this over with then," Brass sighed suspecting the worst about what the three younger men had discovered.

Grissom led everyone into the conference room and waited until all of them were seated. "Now tell me what is going on exactly."

"Well," Nick sighed. "Archie gave us the address of the business that Kayla mentioned seeing a catalog for first. It was a factory. Apparently customers called to order sex toys and various items from catalogs and the factory that we visited prepared the orders and shipped them out. Man, you should have seen this place there were some things there that I think would have made Lady Heather blush," Nick explained. "Everything was in order though; there was no illegal activity at all there. Hell, according to the employees Greg was even very generous and gave them nice bonuses for Christmas and their birthdays."

"Amazing enough that Greg remained somewhat true to himself when it came to others. Nick is right all of his employees were shocked to hear about his death and said that he had been good to them," Warrick agreed.

"What about the other business you mentioned," Brass asked. "You must have found some type of illegal activity there right?"

"Nothing at all, everything is within the legal limits the business seemed to have been checked by Vice periodically." Warrick looked at Grissom who was unusually quiet.

"What kind of business is the other one?" Grissom finally asked.

"Well, the other business is, I think the reason for Greg's double life and probably the reason that he didn't want us to know about it. It's an escort service. The LVPD even utilizes it for the Policeman's ball and other events that they are able to bring dates to. We didn't find anything illegal at all, and just like his other business we were informed that he was very kind with his Christmas and birthday bonuses. I think Greg may have been afraid of what we would have thought of his having businesses like that. I don't see why he couldn't have trusted me enough to tell me though. Man, I thought he was my friend," Nick told them.

"You mean to tell me he was keeping a secret life from us; criminalists and police officers, but yet he was not doing anything illegal, and if it had not been for his death we would not have known he was keeping anything from us?" Brass questioned.

"That is right." Warrick's voice was heavy with anger; anger for someone he had known so little and misjudged so greatly. "Hard to believe, isn't it?"

"It certainly is," Grissom looked from one to the other. "Archie, what did you find out?"

"There are still a lot of files to sort through, but I haven't found anything illegal either. I can tell you though, that his escort business had some interesting clients, clients that would not want anyone to know they utilized his services. Some of those clients are married though, which if it was totally legal, why would they need his services in the first place," Archie asked.

"Keep looking," Brass said. "Sanders was very smart, I'm sure if he was doing anything illegal he would have known how to cover his tracks well. And his job here at the lab would have been the perfect way for him to make sure that no one was on to him. If we did find something on Shawn, Greg would have been able to find out and perhaps do something about it."

"Another concern would be the involvement of government officials in his escort business as clients. He might have received certain benefits from such clients," Grissom's eyes narrowed. "Greg has been operating under the umbrella of legality, but nothing is ever perfect."

"I'll keep looking," Archie spoke quietly, "I really hope that I don't find anything illegal. It's bad enough knowing that he lied to us all this time," Archie said looking down at the table to avoid looking either Grissom or Brass in the eye. They both seemed eager to prove that Greg was a monster in addition to lying to them for so long, and Archie did not want to believe that without proof first.

* * *

A large photo album in her lap, Sara sat on the couch in Greg's apartment. Her water sat untouched on the side end table as she turned the pages slowly gazing at his photographs. A tear trickled down her cheek and landed on the plastic sheet that covered the page. She wiped it away carefully. Silence surrounded her, but instead of it bothering her, she felt oddly at home and comfortable. Sara was so involved in the pictures that she did not hear the door open until the voices of a man and woman reached her. She looked up at a middle-aged couple who gazed down at her in surprise.

"Are you Gregory's girlfriend," the woman questioned as she watched the younger woman wipe tears from her cheeks.

"Eh... no," Sara rose quickly, feeling embarrassed. "I am Sara Sidle from the Crime Lab," she offered her hand.

"Oh, I remember Greg talking about you a few times," the woman nodded. "I am Kirstie Sanders, and this is my husband Paul Sanders. We are Greg's parents," she shook the younger woman's hand and glanced down at the photo album that she had discarded on the couch cushion. She noticed it was open to a picture of Greg after graduating from college. "I gave Gregory that photo album before he moved out here. I thought he should have it to keep his old memories and add new memories to it."

"It is a pleasure to meet you both." Sara attempted to smile. "He talked about you a lot."

"Now that I find hard to believe," Kirstie laughed with a shake of her head as she walked over to the couch and started to page through the photo album. "I see he never did add any of his own pictures in here."

"So were you a good friend of Greg's?" Paul asked as he looked around the apartment.

"I worked with him at the lab and yes we were all friends with him," Sara answered. "I think he was just too busy working. Sometimes it's difficult to find time for a real life outside work especially when you work the hours he did." She sat down next to his mother.

"Yes, I remember he would often tell me that he didn't call us because of working a lot of overtime. I thought it was just an excuse," the older woman said wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

"Kirstie, we should get started going through his stuff, we need to get back to California as soon as we can," Paul told her.

"Would you like some help?" Sara handed Kirstie some tissues. "I don't have to be at the lab right now."

"That would be great thank you," Kirstie grinned.

"Any time, I still have not found closure yet about his death." Sara admitted. "What would you like me to do?" It would be good to find something to do and keep busy.

"Yes, sometimes it takes awhile to find closure," Greg's mother nodded. "He hasn't been home in over a year, but just knowing that he will never come home again and walk through the door, and lug his surfboard through the house before heading to the beach again is hard to bear. "As for what you can do, I know we are going to take his chessboard and his coin collection home with us. You can start by packing them. Paul brought some boxes."

"How about his clothes and other personal items, will you need someone to transfer his furniture?" she took one of the boxes and placed the chessboard and coin collection in it.

"We have to look around first before we can determine what we would like to take back to San Gabriel with us. Most of his larger furnishings will be sent to the Salvation Army or we'll just leave them here for who ever moves in next. We don't have the room for it, and most of our family and friends do not need it," Paul explained.

"If you or any of Greg's other friends from work would like anything that we don't take feel free to have them, I'm sure Gregory wouldn't mind his friends taking some of his trinkets to remember him by," Kirstie told Sara as she stood up and walked toward the kitchen. She needed to get to work, before she broke down. She knew if she broke down now she would never be able to go through her son's belongings. It would be hard to decide what to keep or discard, they were all items that he either used frequently or cherished.

"Thank you, I will let everyone know especially Nick. He and Greg were pretty close friends," she followed Kirstie. "I know someone who can pick up the larger items and bring them to a warehouse until we find people who will take them."

Hours later, Kirstie and Paul took one last look at their son's apartment. The apartment had been his home for five years. Kirstie had to fight back another wave of tears as she realized that now someone else would move in and make it their home, never to know that her only child had ever lived there. They probably wouldn't know he had even existed at all. With a sigh, she walked up to Sara who stood in the living area looking like a lost child. Kirstie had a feeling that Sara had wanted there to be more between her and Greg; it was the same impression that she had gotten from Greg when he spoke of her.

"Sweetie," Kirstie spoke taking a step closer to the young woman, "here I want you to have this. It's the picture that you were looking at when we came in, I have another one in California," she held out the photo of her only son. She remembered the day very well, they had been so proud of him, his bright smile and the sparkle in his eyes proved that he too was proud of his accomplishments. After Sara took the picture from her hand, she pulled her into a hug, and spoke again, "Honey, if there is ever anything you need, do not hesitate to call me. I know you were a good friend to Greg, and when you come to the funeral you can stay in our home for as long as you need to."

Sara was speechless for a moment. "Thank you very much...Kirstie. I miss him."

"So do I," Kirstie assured her. "I'll call the lab and let Mr. Grissom know of the funeral arrangements. Take care of your self honey." With that Greg's parents walked out of the apartment.

Sara stared at the back of the picture with Greg's parents' phone number, address, and a quick note to call whenever she might need something. "Thank you, I appreciate this." Sara thought for a moment. "Would you mind if I took a couple of his shirts as well?"

Sudden silence engulfed her and Sara realized that his parents had left. With a deep sigh she walked into Greg's bedroom and began to pull out a few shirts she had particularly liked on him. She felt tired and ready to fall asleep on her feet. She walked over to the bed and lay down to rest for a few minutes before heading home. His pillow still carried his scent and she inhaled it deeply. Feeling cold Sara pulled the blanket over her and closed her eyes as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Sara opened her eyes. It had grown dark outside. Was it that late already? She must have fallen asleep in Greg's bed after all. She looked at the clock and jumped out of bed. Only another hour and her shift would start. Sara rose groggily not wanting to leave his apartment, but she had to get to work after all. It took a little while to gather the shirts in the darkness and find her way toward the apartment door when she heard someone call her name._

"_Sara wait, please don't leave," Greg said as he reached out and gently touched her shoulder. "I… I need you."_

_"Greg, what are you doing here?" she asked as she watched his dark form in front of her._

"_I live here, you know I really should be asking you that," he said and flipped a switch that turned on a lamp on the end table near his couch. "What are you doing with my shirts?"_

_She stared at him. "I...I wanted something to remember you." the shirts slipped out of her hand._

"_Sara, haven't we already been through this. I'm not dead, I'm right here." He took her hand in his and placed it over his chest, letting her feel the rhythmic beats of his heart. "Would you feel that if I were dead?"_

_"No." she whispered, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. "I would not."_

"_What about this, could you feel this," he asked as he leaned forward and gently touched his lips to hers for a quick kiss before he pulled away studying her brown eyes intently trying to gauge her reaction._

_His kiss was intoxicating and Sara stood trembling slightly. "I felt that." she said her voice barely audible._

"_Do you believe me yet, or would you like me to continue showing you how alive I am?" His voice sounded hoarse with years of pent up desire as he lifted his hand to gently caress her cheek._

_"I am not sure," Sara closed her eyes. "Maybe this is just another dream."_

"_Do you want me to stop?" Greg asked as he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her satin-smooth skin. He loved the way her skin felt in his hands; he didn't think he'd ever get tired of the feel of her skin and he hoped that she did not tell him to stop._

_"Don't stop," Sara stepped closer to him. How much she had wanted Greg to touch her._

_Greg grinned and leaned his head down to again claim her mouth with his own while his hand remained on her cheek, his thumb continued its repetitive movements against her warm skin. "You are so beautiful, Sara," he spoke between kisses as his other hand wrapped around her waist pulling her even closer to him._

_"No, I am not," Sara could barely speak._

"_Sara," Greg said. He stopped kissing her to look her in the eyes. "Don't say that. You are very beautiful, I've thought that you were the most beautiful girl in the lab since the first day I met you. Don't ever let anyone including yourself tell you otherwise." After he finished speaking he again lowered his head to continue kissing her lips. He slid his hand behind her head to run it through her soft brown locks._

_Sara moaned into his mouth while she pressed her body closer to his. When his lips left hers she looked deeply into his eyes. "I haven't always been very nice to you," she whispered and took one of his hands into hers._

"_Shh... that's all in the past now, don't worry about it," Greg assured her. "I understand and I don't hold it against you, so neither should you." He leaned his head down again, but this time he began to kiss and lick her neck while still holding her hand in his._

_His scent was intoxicating and it began to invade her senses completely. She pulled Greg's shirt out of his jeans and slipped her hands below the soft fabric to explore the skin beneath. Her fingers crawled up to his chest and shoulders._

_Greg closed his eyes as he felt Sara's hands slip underneath his shirt. Her touch was electrifying and made him feel more alive than he had felt in years. "I love when you touch me," he told her. He moved his head to kiss her mouth again this time trying to let as much of the passion and desire he felt for her show through his actions._

_All the emotions and feelings Sara had suppressed for so long now poured out when she returned his passionate kisses. Her tongue wrapped itself around his like a snake in battle. He tasted sweet and yet masculine. Sara felt her arousal rise while her hands wandered from his chest to his hips and finally the small of his back just above the waistband of his jeans._

"_Sara," Greg sighed into her mouth as her hands rested on his lower back. "Should we go to the bedroom," he asked between kisses lowering his hand slowly down her back until it rested on her butt._

_Sara quivered when she felt his hands on her butt. "If you would like to." she could barely speak. _

_Greg released his hold of her and took a step backward fearing that he had just ruined any chance of at least having her as a friend. "Sara, it doesn't matter what I want. If you don't want to do this, I won't force you."_

_"I do," she looked deeply into his eyes, head tilted slightly back. A tingle spread from her feet to her inner core when Greg placed his hands on her face and kissed her gently._

_He pulled away again and spoke hesitantly, "Are you sure Sara?"_

_"Yes," sudden mirth filled her eyes. "Take me."_

_Greg couldn't help but smile at her choice of words. Taking her hand in his he led her toward his bedroom in the back of the apartment. Once they entered the room he stopped a foot from his large queen sized bed. He leaned down and began to kiss her lips again. He couldn't get enough of her; it was intoxicating just having her so close to him. _

_He tasted so sweet and yet Greg was masculine and filled her senses with a need she had never felt before. Sara pressed her body against his as their tongues intertwined. She groaned lightly into his mouth when she felt her breasts press against his chest._

_He sighed as he felt her press her body against his. He could feel heat radiating off of her in waves as he wrapped an arm around her waist while moving his other hand to tangle it in the soft tresses of her hair. He slowly began to trail his kisses down her chin to her neck then lower still. He alternated between kissing and licking his way to the seam of her v-neck shirt and the small amount of cleavage that was visible._

_Sara pushed his face deeper into her cleavage reveling in his ministrations while she became increasingly aroused. All she wanted to do at this moment was to rip off his clothes to feel and caress his smooth skin._

_Greg chuckled into her cleavage as she pushed his head nearly down the opening of her shirt. "I'll take that as encouragement," he said pulling his head reluctantly away from her. He then quickly placed his hands on the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. "You're so beautiful," he breathed as he looked at her. She now wore only a lacy off white colored bra and a pair of jeans._

_"I want you so much," she said. Before she knew it she had torn off his shirt. Sara stared into his eyes, her hands spread across the hot skin of his chest. She lowered her head to suck the small erect nipples until he shivered._

"_I've wanted you for so long Sara," Greg said closing his eyes, as her tongue seemed to work magic on his body. That's it; he realized suddenly, she must have trapped him in her spell. It was a spell, however, that he was more than willing to take full advantage of. He slid his hands over the satiny smooth skin of her back as she began to trail kisses upward to his tattooed shoulder. He closed his eyes as she began to trail her tongue along the tail of the dragon on his right shoulder. "You like my tattoos," he questioned as he unhooked her bra allowing his hands to roam up and down her back unobstructed. _

_"Yes, I do, they are interesting." she moved her fingers along the outline of the dragon. Realizing that her bra was open now, she pulled it off completely. "There."_

"_Maybe I will have to get one especially for you," Greg grinned as he pushed her backward onto the soft mattress of his bed. He then crawled on top of her and began to kiss her neck. Slowly he started to move his kisses downward until he captured one of her erect nipples with his mouth and sucked on the tip while his other hand instinctively moved toward her other breast eager to give it attention too. He loved the way she reacted to his hand and mouth as he greedily caressed and suckled her as if he would never get the chance to do it again._

_Sara arched her body against his hands and mouth. She moaned loudly as heat waves surged through her body. Her hands weaved through his short, spiked hair, and she covered his neck with short, sucking kisses._

"_Sara," Greg said between deep breaths. "Do you trust me?"_

_"Yes," she whispered. "I do," she looked in his face._

"_Then don't give up on me. I'm not dead. I'm alive, and I'm going to come back to you. You must hold on, can you promise me that you won't give up on me," he said as he raised his hand to caress her cheek._

_"I won't," she said with a shake of her head. "I don't want to believe that you are dead." A single tear slid down her cheek._

"_Good," he said gently kissing her lips one last time. "I love you, and I will be back soon, don't give up on me," he said before his body began to slowly fade until she could no longer see him._

Once again Sara awoke bathed in sweat. She searched for a lamp on the nightstand unsuccessfully. She rolled onto her back and stared into the darkness, still feeling Greg's touch on her skin. No, she could not take any more of these dreams. She felt she was on the verge of losing it soon. Why did he keep telling her he was alive? Why?

to be continued...


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The warm sun shined brightly down on them as they slowly made their way out of the Denali. They walked down the long driveway that led to Greg's parents' home after attending Greg's funeral. Nick felt so uncomfortable, he never imagined that he would visit Greg's childhood home and meet his friends and family under these circumstances. Greg did not have any brothers or sisters, but he had a large family with eight aunts and uncles, and too many cousins to count. As he, Sara, and Grissom made their way to the house he wondered if he could ever forgive his friend for the lies and truly grieve for him.

Grissom walked next to one of Greg's family members, a young woman with light hair. Although he listened to her talk his thoughts were not on the topic on hand. He had just bid a final farewell to Greg and his death had left an empty space somewhere inside him. He continued to listen with occasional nods and finally excused himself to be alone.

Greg's mother had joined Sara who walked with her head down, behind a group of men and women. She had trouble holding back the tears that threatened to burst free, still filled with guilt and pain. Suddenly she remembered the latest dream and sighed deeply.

"How are you holding up honey," Greg's mother asked Sara as they walked up the porch steps. It seemed surreal that she had just buried her only child a few minutes ago. She still expected him to come running through the yard and rushing up the stairs to change his clothes after school before going leaving again to go and spend time with his friends as he frequently had done when he was in school.

"I am alright," Sara replied. "I thought I could deal with the funeral but I am having trouble coming to grips with it all. I have been haunted by dreams about Greg." Somehow she felt she could talk to Kirstie about her fears.

"Greg's grandmother would tell you that it's Greg visiting you in your dreams. She told me once that sometimes a loved one will visit us in our dreams if they feel there is something that we need to know. She claims that my grandfather came to her in her dreams to tell her to watch over her mama, who had trouble dealing with his death and to let her know that he loved her," Kirstie said. "Gregory was very found of you, I'm sure if he could talk to you in his dreams, just like my grandfather, he would."

"He...he told me he was alive." Sara stammered.

"My grandmother used to warn me that if someone sees lost loved ones in their dreams they should be careful because sometimes their subconscious may add what they want to be true to the dream. For instance, someone who cared a great deal for a lost loved one may subconsciously want to believe that person is not dead. If I had not seen Gregory's body with my own eyes I would want to cling to the hope that he was alive and was trying to let you know through his dreams. But unlike my mama, I am a scientist at heart, and I believe my eyes first and for most," Kirstie told her.

"I do too." Sara said still not convinced. "Grissom always tells us to trust the evidence."

"Yes, my Gregory admired Mr. Grissom a lot. I am glad that he came here to the funeral," Kirstie told her.

"Grissom liked him too although he might not admit it openly." she gave Kirstie a wry smile.

"Unfortunately, I think Gregory died believing that was not true," Kirstie sighed as she opened the door to her home. She held it open until Sara took the door and they both entered.

Grissom winced when he heard Mrs. Sanders' words. Maybe he should have told Greg more often that he was doing a great job in the lab. He decided to talk to Mrs. Sanders once they were in the house.

"There is food and drinks in the kitchen if you are hungry," Kirstie told them as the three CSIs entered the house. She remained at the door holding the door for the other guests that were following them inside.

"Mrs. Sanders, may I have a word with you?" Grissom approached Kirstie.

"We could talk in my husband's study," she said. "Just let me let Paul know," she said and walked away to inform her husband to take over greeting the rest of their guests while she spoke with Mr. Grissom. When she returned to where the CSI stood she motioned for him to follow her into the study.

Grissom looked at the pictures that lined the wall of the hallway leading to the office. He paused to look at a graduation picture of Greg. "You must have been very proud of him."

"Yes," Kirstie nodded. "I was especially proud when he chose to work for a crime lab to help solve crimes instead of a research facility where he would have made much more money. He told me once that he wanted to make a difference. He didn't want to help to find the next biggest thing in skin care; he wanted to help people with issues bigger than appearance." She motioned for Grissom to have a seat on the couch on the other side of the door.

"I know," Grissom sat down. "He was always helpful and got things done quicker than anyone before him."

"So Mr. Grissom, what can I do for you?" Kirstie asked. She had a house full of guests that she needed to return to.

"I will make this short because I know you have to attend to your guests," he said as if reading her thoughts. "I just wanted to let you know that I liked Greg and truly miss him. He brightened many of our days with his unusual taste in music, his often unorthodox ideas, and his overall positive outlook on life."

"Yes, in high school he always did exceptionally well in school, but tended to get into trouble for making jokes and being disruptive. He usually finished his work before the other students and would become bored, which in turn would get him into trouble. The teachers finally realized that they had to find additional work for him after he was finished whether it was additional assignments or running errands like going to the office to check the teacher's mail box or something like that," Kirstie explained. "I'm glad to know that you valued my son, but unfortunately I'm not the one who you should have told. Perhaps, my son's death can help to ensure that you do not repeat your mistakes with any of your other employees."

"Point well taken," Grissom gazed into her face. "I am not one to always voice what I feel."

"That is apparent," Kirstie commented. "My son was like you in many ways; however, he masked his feelings with humor. He made it very difficult to tell sometimes when he was upset or not. Although, when he was extremely angry or upset it was very easy to tell because he became very quiet, which as I'm sure you are aware is unusual for Gregory."

"I have noticed it on occasion." he gave her a quick smile. "I tend to recoil from people when I am angry."

"Yes, well I think we should return before my husband turns my house into a circus. Greg got his unorthodox nature from his father. There was rarely a dull moment around here when he was growing up," Kirstie said as she started walking toward the doorway.

"I am sure of it. And thank you for your time." Grissom held the door open for Kirstie.

* * *

Sara stepped outside into the garden. The need to be alone to think was greater than her need for good etiquette. It was peaceful out here as she looked at the flowers and small, neatly pruned bushes around her. She sat down on the wooden bench on the lawn and leaned back closing her eyes.

"I can imagine Shawn had quite a lot of fun in this yard. I remember him telling me about playing Cowboys and Indians as a child," Kayla Donahue commented as she leaned against the side of the house a few feet behind where Sara now sat on the bench.

Sara's head jerked around. "What's it to you?"

"I was his girlfriend, his one true girlfriend. You may have thought you had something special with him, or either you just wanted there to be more than there was between you, but I was the one he came home to every night. I was the one who was there to comfort him after a nightmare or a bad day at work, not you and not any of his other conquests," Kayla told her.

"I am neither a conquest nor anything else you might imply." Sara hissed. "Get off your high horse. Just because you screwed him doesn't mean he really loved you."

"He told me," Kayla said simply with a shrug of her shoulders. "How many times did he tell you that he loved you, that he believed you were his soul mate? He told me at least once everyday for seven years."

"Never; we were just colleagues. There was no reason to do so." Sara rose, feeling annoyed with this woman who seemed to think she had the right to patronize her. "He was a friend, nothing more."

"And if that were really true, you would not become so angry by the knowledge that he had a girlfriend that he loved," Kayla told her crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's not that. I just have a problem with people like you," she stood up and stepped closer to Kayla. "When people love one another they don't have to tell everyone. It makes it look like you actually have to justify yourself," her voice got increasingly louder.

"You asked what it was to me," Kayla raised her voice stepping forward. "When people obviously don't want to believe that someone they knew could be in love with someone else you do have to tell them. Because people like you won't take the hint otherwise."

"Oh, I can take a hint," Sara snarled. "And you just make me sick."

"You stupid bitch, you think I make you sick. You can't even handle that he cared for someone else," clenching her hand into a fist she punched Sara in the stomach. She prepared for another blow. But someone suddenly grabbed her from behind and pulled her roughly away from Sara.

"Whoa, that's enough. What the hell do you two think you are doing? We just buried Greg and you are fighting like children," Nick yelled still holding Kayla back to be sure she wouldn't try to hit Sara again.

Sara held her stomach, doubled over. "You fucking little tramp." she said between clenched teeth. "She started it."

"Me?" Kayla screamed trying gallantly to break free of Nick's embrace. "What kind of investigator are you, if you believe only what you want to believe and lie about everything?"

"I said that's enough," Nick yelled. "Listen to me, we are here to say goodbye to Greg, not for a boxing match. If you can't stay and remain civil I suggest that you leave now. Both of you," Nick said glaring at Sara. He knew her well enough to know that she was not totally blameless in the confrontation.

"Let me go, you Neanderthal. I'm leaving," Kayla said as her limousine driver stepped forward. "My driver is here."

"I think that's a good idea, Miss Donahue," Nick said releasing her. He watched her walk away before he turned to Sara. "Are you alright?"

"I am fine," tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "I don't know what came over me. God Nick, I am so ashamed."

"It's alright," Nick said as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. "You are upset, when things calm down you can apologize to her if you want to," he assured her.

"I am afraid she won't accept it, not after today. All I want is to find peace again and for the nightmares to stop." she leaned against Nick's chest. "Please tell Grissom and the Sanders I don't feel good and had to go back to the hotel."

"Hold on," Nick said still holding her in his arms. "I'll drive you. Just let me go and let Grissom know that I will be right back," Nick told her.

"Thank you," she said.

* * *

_Sara walked through the front door of the empty house. Grissom had told her to start with the investigation until Warrick and Catherine joined her later. She decided to start upstairs with the children's bedrooms. Although no one was present she suddenly felt as if someone was watching her._

"_Sara," Greg said walking up behind her. "Do you have any evidence for me?"_

"_Gr... Greg." she jumped in the air._

"_Sorry I didn't mean to scare you. I just thought that since no one ever brings any evidence for me to process at the lab anymore; so I came here and see if you had anything for me, or if you need any other kind of help," he explained._

"_What lab?" Sara asked._

"_What do you mean what lab? The lab we work in, the one we first met in. The same lab I have to sneak out of in order to get out in the field unless we have a case concerning coins. What lab do you think I'm talking about?"_

"_The lab was closed a while ago. We are not there anymore," Sara backed away. "And you... you are not there anymore either."_

"_I thought you promised me that you wouldn't do this? You promised me that you would not give up on me," Greg said. He turned and walked toward the doorway. If she couldn't keep her promises there was no reason for him to stay._

"_Greg, please don't go," she begged him. "I am trying but I can't quiet the voice of doubt."_

"_There shouldn't be any doubt, I'm right here in front of you. Ask me anything and I will answer, then when I answer your questions maybe you'll believe me," Greg told her as he stopped in the doorway. _

"_Why...why didn't you tell me you had a girlfriend?" she demanded to know._

"_A girlfriend, but I don't. Not for a couple of months and not anyone that would be serious with," Greg assured her._

"_But I met her," she said feeling more confused than ever._

"_Then she lied to you Sara," Greg told her raising his voice in frustration._

"_But...but who was she then?" She wanted to believe Greg but she had so many questions._

"_I don't know, maybe my ex-girlfriend doesn't want to accept that we're not together anymore, although it was over a year since I broke up with her," Greg said running his hand through his hair. He felt like he should be in an interrogation room at the lab._

_"She said that you and she had... had great sex and that... that you told her you loved her every day," Sara turned away to hide the tears that filled her eyes._

"_She did?" Greg asked looking at Sara with confusion in his eyes. "I admit the sex was good, but I can assure you that I didn't tell her that I loved her ever. We only went out for three months. She was too clingy and she was the one who always said she loved me. She told me she loved me after one date in which we went to a movie and didn't even talk to each other very much; I didn't understand how she could claim to love me when she didn't know me." Greg walked up to the front of Sara so he could see her face. "What's wrong," he asked wiping her tears with his thumbs. "Are you upset because you thought I had a girlfriend? I don't, I assure you I've been without a steady girlfriend for a while now."_

_"Greg, I am so confused," she let herself fall against his chest suddenly feeling weak. "I wish I could sort out all those jumbled feelings."_

_Greg wrapped his arms around her waist and held her against him. "It's alright Sara, I'm right here. I will help you in anyway that I can," he told her._

_"Please." Sara put her face against his chest. "I just realized how I really feel about you... wait... no... I knew for a while... but I was afraid to admit it to myself."_

"_H... how you feel about me? Are you telling me what I think you are telling me," Greg asked. He could smell the fruity scent of her shampoo as her head rested on his chest._

_"I think I am," she whispered. "Oh, Greg."_

"_You don't know how glad I am to hear that Sara," Greg grinned pulling her even closer to him. He lifted his right hand to tangle it in her soft brown hair._

_"You don't think I am a fool?" Sara asked in a hushed voice._

"_No, of course not, why would I think that?" He finally released her from his embrace so he could look into her chocolate eyes._

_"I had an altercation with your girl... ex-girlfriend. I acted like a kid in high school." No longer able to keep his gaze, she looked away._

"_You fought with her," Greg grinned. "Wow, I never had anyone fight over me before. Did you win?"_

_"No, she punched me in the stomach and then Nick came outside. She left shortly after," she did have to smile when she looked at his surprised expression._

"_Are you alright, did she hurt you?" He looked into her eyes with his own concern filled eyes. _

_"I am fine," Sara assured him. "I have been attacked before. Don't worry." she cupped his face with her hands and kissed him gently._

_Greg pulled Sara close to him and kissed her back with all the passion and desire that had built up inside of him for several months. "Sara," he smiled looking into her eyes after they had finally parted to catch their breath. "You are amazing," he said leaning forward and kissing her this time._

_"No, you are." she replied and kissed him again. She could spend eternity just kissing him._

_Greg smiled placing his hand on her cheek. He was about to kiss her more when he suddenly turned his head toward the door as if he had heard something. "Sara, I have to go now. Just remember that I love you and I will be back in your arms soon," he gently rubbed his finger back and forth over her cheek. "I promise I will be back soon and if you still want to you can kiss me until the end of time." He leaned down and placed a quick kiss on her lips before once again vanishing._

"Greg, please don't go." she called after him but he was gone, vanished as in all he dreams before. A knock on her door made her jump. "Who is it?"

"It's Nick," he said standing outside the door. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I am ok." she got out of bed and opened the door. "Sorry, I wasn't quite awake when you knocked."

"Are you sure," Nick said when she opened the door for him. He noticed that she was wearing a blue pair of pajama like pants and a black tank top. "I heard you calling out Greg's name. You cared about him a lot didn't you, more than you wanted anyone else to know?"

"Yes." she said quietly while she let Nick enter. "I had another dream."

"I'm so sorry," Nick said and wrapped his arms around her as a tear slid down her cheek. "I miss him too. It's so easy to be mad at him for all the lies. Like if I'm focused on being mad at him I won't have to deal with missing him so much. It's so quiet around the lab without him. I miss talking to him about sports and playing video games with him. When I met his family at the funeral, I realized that none of it matters, he's still gone."

"I know." she felt suddenly like a child. "Sometimes I am mad and then I don't know what or how to feel. I am wavering between sadness and anger but most of all confusion."

"Does this ever get any easier? When I'm at the lab I keep expecting him to walk through the break room doors with some off the wall comment or joke. It's never going to be the same again." Nick finally released her.

"No, it does not. Every time I think I finally have come to the realization he is gone, he'll tell me he is not dead. I am about to lose it." Sara stepped back to reach for a set of clothes.

"Wait a minute; what do you mean he tells you he's not dead?" Nick questioned confusion clouding his expressions.

"In my dreams he keeps insisting that he is still alive and to have faith. It is pure torture and I don't know what to think anymore." her face suddenly looked strained.

"In your dreams, do you think there could be something to it? I saw a TV show once where this girl dreamt that she was going to be in a serious car accident and it was true. Another single girl dreamt while she was pregnant with her first child, whom she did not know the sex of, that she was in the hospital about to give birth to twins. There was a little girl standing next to her bed with long brown wavy hair, and there was a tall blonde haired man who she could only see the back of his head standing next to her. It turned out that years later when her daughter was five she had had another child her only other child. Although it wasn't twins, it was another child and the child's father has blonde hair, and her daughter has natural curly brown hair. Maybe he's trying to tell us something Sara," Nick said feeling hope coursing through his veins for the first time since he saw Greg's body laying on the bed in the penthouse.

"How could that be? You saw his body as well as I did," she shook her head. "It's my guilt that makes me have these dreams."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry; I guess I was just getting my hopes up. I haven't been dreaming about Greg, but I was thinking several times of any possible way that it could be a mistake and that he's not dead. I guess it was just wishful thinking huh," Nick sighed running a hand through his hair. "Well I better let you get ready before Grissom sends a search party out for us."

"I know and I have had the same hopes as you," she gave him a thin smile. "Go and let Gris know I'll be ready in 15 minutes."

"Alright, I'll see you soon," Nick nodded and left the hotel room looking more solemn than when he had entered.

To be continued...


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Grissom nodded to Jake Sharpe. "It's time to introduce you to the team." he watched as the young man looked toward the hallway. "I promise they won't bite. They might growl a bit though," he commented while a grin curled his lips.

"It's alright Sir, I'm here to work not to make friends," the younger man told him.

"You will in time." He guided Jake out of his office toward the break room hoping to find some members of his team. Nick, Warrick, and Catherine looked at him when he entered the room, Jake next to him.

"Good evening," Grissom greeted the three CSI. "I like to introduce our new Lab Tech, Jake Sharpe." He watched the different emotions on his team members' faces.

"Hello." Warrick said friendly but with a cool tone.

"I am Catherine Willows and the guy who just spoke is Warrick Brown." Catherine offered her hand to Jake.

Jake sighed and shook the taller woman's hand with a nod. The third man, who had been sitting at the table with them, stood up while glaring at him. He assumed that he was a good friend of the former DNA tech who had died.

"Nice meeting you man, I'm Nick Stokes. I have something I need to do if you will excuse me," he said and walked quickly out of the lab looking angry.

"I want you to make this transition as easy as possible," Grissom gazed at Warrick and Catherine. "This is not a request but an order."

"Ok Boss," Warrick grumbled. "Sorry man, the last week and a half has been tough. Welcome to the team."

"No problem," Jake shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, I am off. I need to do some field work." Warrick excused himself glad to be able to leave. He was not ready for Greg's replacement just yet and needed a little more time. "See you later."

Jake rolled his eyes as the other male CSI left the break room seeming almost as uncomfortable in his presence as the first man who left the room. At least working in this lab would be easier than his previous jobs to keep his interactions with the other employees to an as needed only basis, he thought.

"Jake, let us know if you need help with anything. You'll get used to us believe me. Greg did too," Catherine regarded him with a smile. "I would stay but I have to see someone with information on another case. I will see you later." Nodding to both men she walked out of the break room.

"Well Jake, let me show you the rest of the lab and introduce you to the rest of the crew." Grissom said as he watched Catherine walk away.

Jake nodded wishing the older man would just show him to the DNA lab so he could start working. He only planned on working in the Crime Lab until he could find another position in a more prestigious lab, like the genetics lab where he would earn much more money than he ever would working for the city.

Grissom led him down the hall and introduced him to various crew members until they ran into Sara on the way back. "Sara, this is Jake, the new lab tech," he said ignoring the frown on her face. "Jake, this is Sara Sidle, another of my CSI."

"Oh, hello Jake," Sara looked at him darkly.

"Hello," Jake sighed.

"Gris, you just couldn't wait to replace Greg as soon as possible, could you?" Sara hissed with an unfriendly side-glance to Jake.

Grissom swallowed hard to repress a comment that was coming to mind. "Sara, we need someone in this lab and Jake has the best credentials and is certainly well qualified to fill Greg's position.

"I don't care about credentials." Sara squared her shoulders as if preparing for a fight.

Grissom turned to Jake. "Would you please excuse us? Your lab is right over there. Go and make yourself at home. I need to address something with Ms. Sidle."

Jake nodded and walked away glad that the tour seemed to finally be over so he could get to work.

"Ok, what do you want?" Sara glared at her boss.

Grissom sighed and glanced at Jake who looked at the two of them with a curious expression on his face before nodding and walking toward the DNA lab where Greg's temporary replacement was currently waiting to train. After watching the new tech enter the lab Grissom, turned to Sara and said, "My office now."

"As you wish," she replied defiantly.

Grissom shook his head and followed her as she quickly walked down the hall toward his office. As they entered she flopped down onto the seat across from his desk while he closed the door before sitting at his desk. "Sara, I understand that you are upset about Greg and you are still grieving. We all are, but you're recent behavior is interfering with your work. You know we cannot keep depending on the day and swing shift DNA techs to keep doing Greg's work. Greg would have been back from Miami in a few days, but since he won't be coming back it was necessary to find his replacement now before the other tech's burn themselves out. Jake has to be trained as well."

Sara crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Why not wait a few more days, eh? Is that too much to expect even from you? Not everyone deals with death in the same cold manner as you do," she looked at him accusingly.

"Sara," Grissom grit his teeth, "Greg is dead. I know you don't want to accept that fact, but he's gone and he's never coming back. Whether I replace him now, in a few days, weeks, or months it won't change the fact that he's not coming back." Grissom's voice had risen as he bluntly told her the truth that she seemed reluctant to face.

"I just wanted you to wait until the day he was supposed to return." her voice raised an octave. "You are just like everyone else." she pressed her lips into a thin line.

"How am I just like everyone else?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Everyone keeps telling me that everything will be ok and I'll be fine and... and that it is normal to feel the way I do. I am tired of everyone assuming they know how exactly I feel or what I am going through." she placed her hands on Grissom's desk. "And so what if it is affecting my work, I am not a robot."

"First of all Sara, I have never told you that everything will be ok, yes in time it will be easier to deal with his loss and you will most likely be ok, but I do not know for certain. And as for it affecting your work, it is a very big deal. Your work since Greg's death has been very sloppy. You've missed evidence at the scenes you've worked, you lose your focus, and you don't seem to care one way or the other if you solve the crime or not. I didn't want to have to do this," Grissom sighed taking a deep breath before continuing. "But I think it is in yours and the lab's best interest if I suspend you without pay for a week. Please use that time to make your peace with what happened to Greg, I don't want to have to fire you."

"Fine," she pounded her hand on the desk. "It will not make the problem go away." She turned and stormed out of the office without turning around.

Grissom shook his head and watched her walk away. He suddenly got the feeling that they were about to lose another member of their team.

Angry and with tears filling her eyes Sara retrieved her purse from her locker and walked to her car.

* * *

_Why was she in the lab at this hour? Everything was dark and the silence surrounded her like a blanket. There was no reason to visit here since everything was deserted? But she was searching for something, or was it someone? Sara could not remember what made her come. With a shake of her head she turned to leave when she heard someone call her name._

"_Sara, don't go," Greg called as he ran down the corridor to keep up with her. "I was afraid you wouldn't come anymore."_

_"Greg?" her face paled. "But..."_

"_For Christ sake Sara, are you going to pretend that we haven't been through this a hundred times already? I guess your promises of having faith in me meant nothing at all," he shook his head and turned away from her. Maybe he should give up; everyone else already had given up on him._

_"I keep forgetting, please don't go." she said pleadingly. "Everyone keeps telling me that these are nothing more than dreams and illusions."_

_Greg turned around to look at her. "Ignore what everyone is telling you to believe; do you believe that I am really dead?"_

_Sara touched his face, it felt warm under her fingers. "Yes... no... I don't know sometimes."_

"_Come on Sara, either you believe I'm still alive or you believe I'm dead. You can't have it both ways, which is it? Am I dead or alive?" He demanded pulling away from her touch. He was tired of her pretending._

_"I want to believe, honestly." she stood as if nailed to the ground. "I really do."_

"_But you don't," he finished for her. He felt like she had just reached inside his chest and ripped his heart out. "I guess there is no reason for me to continue to come to you then," he told her as he turned to walk away._

_"Don't go, please. I don't want to be alone." Sara shouted after him._

"_Why should I stay?" He demanded as he turned to face her. "You are just like the others you've lost faith in me. Let me ask you something Sara, if I am dead why didn't you find my wallet or my cell phone? Did you even try to call my cell phone to find out if I would answer?"_

_"But... but, why would I call you?" she stammered, her eyes growing moist. "I wasn't the one who searched your apartment."_

"_If you really wanted to know you would call, and since you've been in my apartment several times this week, you could have looked for it yourself. If I was dead you should have found it. Has it crossed your mind that I might have my wallet and my cell phone with me?" For emphasis he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and his cell phone from his front pocket to show her._

_"No, it has not," she admitted while she stared at the items in his hand._

_Greg shook his head. "Sara I love you and if you really loved me you wouldn't have given up on me. You would still believe that I am alive and you would still believe in," a tear slid down his cheek before he could prevent it. "Have a good life Sara," he said as he began to fade away. "I love you, but I can't come back to you if you don't believe," He said as he disappeared completely, leaving Sara alone in the lab._

_Sara collapsed on the floor and began to cry, one hand stretched out toward Greg's disappearing back._

* * *

The morning sun filtered through her blinds when Sara opened her eyes. She blinked a few times as she slowly woke still under the influence of another dream about Greg. He had been so angry with her unlike all the previous dreams. "Call me" he had insisted. Sara sighed deeply. Would the dreams ever end? What if he was telling the truth and Greg was still alive? Sara reached for her cell phone, but hesitated before she looked for his number.

With trembling fingers Sara pushed Greg's number on speed dial.

"Sanders," a groggy sounding voice answered the phone.

Sara stared at the phone not trusting her ears.

"Sara is that you? Is everything alright?" the voice questioned sounding more awake now. "Sara answer me, did something happen?"

Sara closed the phone quickly. No it could not be true. It had to be a bad joke. She closed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists.

Suddenly the phone rang and Sara looked at the display. She almost screamed when G. Sanders showed on the screen and on impulse she threw it against the opposite wall where it ricocheted against her 5-drawer chest and landed on the floor. Sara pulled the covers over her head shaking like a leaf.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Sara sat in her car for a few minutes longer before she got out. She felt uncomfortable and nervous especially since her blow up the prior day but she needed to talk to Grissom no matter how bad it might turn out. Glad that none of her colleagues were in the lab this evening she walked to Grissom's office without interruption. "Hello." she said quietly as she stood there looking at her supervisor.

Grissom looked up from the mountain of paper work piled up on his desk to see Sara walk into his office. "Sara, you are on suspension. That means that you do not need to come into work," he told her with a sigh. She had been out of line yesterday and he was not going to take back her suspension no matter how much she might apologize.

"I know," she rubbed her eyes. "I came to talk to you and also to apologize. I was out of line yesterday."

"Yes you were," Grissom agreed. "But no matter how much you apologize, you are still on suspension."

"I am not here to argue with you. Just hear me out and then I will go home," she sat down on the other chair.

"Fine, what do you need to say," he asked. He indicated with a wave of his hand for her to sit down without realizing that she had settled already.

"I had another dream about Greg," Sara signaled Grissom to wait when she saw him opening his mouth for a reply. "Why did you never find his wallet and cell phone when you searched his apartment or even his offices?"

"I don't know, perhaps his killer took them and tossed them somewhere," Grissom told her. He didn't know what she was getting at, but he had a feeling that he wouldn't like it. "What was this dream about?"

Sara shook back her hair that kept falling into her face. "He told me that he was still alive and showed me his wallet and phone." Even Grissom's frown did not prevent her from continuing. "When I woke up I called him and he answered his phone."

"Sara, we buried him in California. You were at his funeral. I don't know who answered his phone, but it was not Greg. Sometimes in our dreams we may envision what we would like to be true, but that doesn't mean that it is true. You need to let him go, it's the only way that the dreams will stop," Grissom told her.

"No, Gris, this was real. He even called me back." she pulled out her cell phone. "The number is still there." Sara handed it to him.

Grissom looked at the phone and saw that it was indeed Greg's cell phone number on the top of her recent calls list. "Sara, it just means that who ever took his phone called you back. Maybe they're trying to mess with you. You have to stop this."

"Gil." she raised her voice slightly in frustration. "How come his name came up too? Can you explain that?"

"Sara," Grissom sighed becoming sick of her desperate attempts to find a way to believe Greg was still alive. "If someone called me from Greg's phone it would show his name and number too, because I programmed his number into the speed dial of my phone. It does the same when you, Nick, or whoever else calls me. I know you don't want to believe that he's gone, but you are grasping at straws. He's dead and he's not coming back," Grissom told her as a knock on his door interrupted him. He looked up to see Captain Jim Brass standing in the doorway. Grissom waved his hand toward him motioning him to come in.

"Grissom, I just wanted to give you a heads up," Brass said as he entered the office. "I just received a bulletin that Greg's credit card was used at an airport. The local police are picking up the perpetrator who used the stolen card as we speak."

Sara's head flew around to gaze up at Brass. "They did what?"

"Someone used Greg Sanders' credit card to try and purchase an airline ticket. The card was flagged and the local authorities are picking the person up now. I would guess that Gwendolyn Post took it when she killed him and either tossed it and someone found it or she gave it to someone else. I don't know, perhaps she had an accomplice that she hadn't admitted to yet. When I hear from the arresting officer I will request that the perp be brought here so I can speak with him," Brass explained. Wondering why Sara was here when Gil had told him that she was suspended.

"Or maybe it was Greg?" Sara watched Brass and Grissom cringe.

"Sara, please not again. We have gone over this too many times now." he sighed. "Please go home and I will let you know if anything happens regarding Greg."

"Fine," Sara rose pushing the chair hard, causing it to almost tip over.

"What was that about," Brass asked as he watched Sara storm out of the office.

"She still believes that Greg might not be dead after all. Sara had another dream and then called his number. Someone answered pretending to be him and then called her back. Greg's name and number showed on her caller ID." Grissom shook his head. "I am very concerned about her."

"Once the investigation is officially over, she'll come around. Dealing with an unexpected death is hard. I don't think that Sara has had to deal with that before, it's a lot different from dealing with the death of a stranger," Brass told him.

"I know but she has never been quite this edgy," Grissom answered. "How long did they say it would take to notify us?"

"They didn't say. I would assume a couple of hours. They will have to interrogate him and process him," Brass shrugged his shoulders. "It all depends on how well the perp cooperates."

"Let's hope he does. I would like to put this to rest once and for all for Sara and all of our sakes." Grissom looked at Brass. "If you have a few minutes, let's grab something to eat."

* * *

Grissom crumpled a piece of paper as he entered his office, but before he had a chance to toss it in the wastebasket the phone rang. "Grissom here," he said.

"I'm Detective Reynolds from Miami P.D. I spoke with a Captain Jim Brass about an hour ago about a stolen credit card belonging to Gregory Sanders," the deep voice introduced himself.

"I am Gil Grissom." he replied and looked at the receiver for a moment. "Captain Brass informed me earlier, we have been expecting your call. Have you found anything out yet?"

"Yeah, he's been talking a lot actually. He says he's Greg Sanders even told me that I should call his supervisor, Gil Grissom or Captain Brass. And that's not it, he looks like the young man pictured in Greg Sanders' driver's License and Las Vegas Crime Lab photo ID. Usually thieves cannot tell us specific details of the owner's of the card like who their boss is. Are you sure that you buried the right man," Detective Reynolds questioned.

"There is no doubt we buried Greg Sanders. DNA and the evidence supported our findings," Grissom said still unconvinced that the perp was Greg.

"Is it possible that he had a twin brother? I know that driver's licenses and employee photo ID's aren't the best photos, but this kid looks like the same person. He looks a little younger than a 27-year-old, but my wife is accused of being much younger than her actual age too," the detective told him.

"No he had no siblings." Grissom shuffled some papers on his desk. "He was an only child."

"Well you really need to see this kid and I believe Captain Brass wants to talk to him about Sanders' murder case as well. I've arranged for him to be flown to Vegas via police escort. He will arrive in Vegas 5 a.m. tomorrow morning. I would have liked to get him to you sooner, but I couldn't get any earlier flights," Reynolds said.

"Detective Brass and I will be at the airport. I will give you my cell phone number in case there are any changes. It is better to reach me directly."

"Good," the deep voice said, "Keep me posted on this kid, alright. He just doesn't seem like a criminal. He's a little goofy, but so was my son when he was younger. You should have seen his face when I told him that we would have to keep him in a jail cell until it's time for the flight to Vegas, almost broke my heart."

"We'll see you tomorrow morning and don't let him fool you too much," Grissom replied.

"Don't get me wrong Grissom, I've been a detective longer than you've been out of school, but you have not seen him. He is either your employee, a long lost twin, a doppelganger, or someone went to a lot of effort to look like your dead employee," the detective said. "I have no intentions of believing him and letting him stay in a hotel room or something like that, but he does look heartbroken like if he had never had to spend a night in a jail cell before. He just isn't acting like a criminal."

"I will decide once I see for myself," Grissom said neutrally. "Until then I will leave his comfort to you."

* * *

Greg's apartment kept calling her and once again Sara spent the night at his place. Most of his furniture had not been picked up and she needed to feel him for her own comfort. Never before had Sara felt about any one as she did for Greg.

Guilt and a sudden emptiness filled her since Greg's passing and made her come back here to fill the void he had created.

When Sara finally woke up it was mid morning. She had not slept this long since she had started to work with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. She pressed her face deeper into the pillow. She could never get enough of Greg's aftershave and natural scent.

Sara sat up in his bed, knees tucked under her chin, eyes roaming through his bedroom. It was a mix of boyish charm and neo modern designs. An eclectic mix she somewhat expected from him. But everything was within normal levels unlike the penthouse.

"Greg, why did you have to die," she asked the abstract painting on the opposite wall as if it could solve her troubles. "You didn't even give me a chance to apologize to you." Her eyes grew hot from suppressed tears.

And then she remembered that for the first time since Greg's death he had not appeared to her in a dream. He did tell her the previous night that he would not come back if she did not believe in him. Sara jumped out of bed and retrieved her purse from the living room. Since it was a bit chilly in the apartment she went back to bed before she got her phone to dial Greg's cell number. She listened to the phone ring endless times before she hung up.

Her hand went limp with the phone dropping onto the coverlet, while she covered her eyes with the other. He was gone and there was no hope now. She had been so stupid to believe what Greg had tried to tell her all along. Or maybe the others were right and her overactive, grieving mind had created his images. More confused than Sara had been before she wrapped the blanket around her and lay back down to weep.

Soon her tears dried. With a determined look on her face Sara sat up and left the bedroom. She freshened up a bit and selected a shirt from his closet. Its fabric felt cool on her skin. With a last look at Greg's apartment she left to go home.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

He yawned as he walked toward the office the secretary at the front desk indicated after issuing him a visitor's pass. He could not help but wonder why the short woman had looked at him strangely when he had asked to speak with Greg Sanders and had sent him instead to Gil Grissom's office. It was bad enough that he had to come here so early because Sanders worked night shift, now he would apparently get the run around too. He sighed as he knocked on the office door.

Grissom looked up at the stranger. "Yes, can I help you?"

"Yes, your secretary directed me to your office. I'm Attorney Craig Jeffries; I'm looking for Greg Sanders. I was informed that he's a lab technician here," the man said after walking further into the office. He noted the strange items that adorned the shelves in the office.

Grissom beckoned Craig to sit down with a raised eyebrow. "My name is Gil Grissom, I am Greg's supervisor. May I ask why you are here for Greg?"

He reluctantly took the offered seat. "I represent the estate of Shawn Gregory; I am here to inform Mr. Sanders that Mr. Gregory has left something for him in his will. Is Mr. Sanders here?" Craig asked.

Grissom sat up straight no longer able to keep a straight face. He cleared his throat, "Shawn Gregory?" he spat the name out as if it were poisonous.

"Yes, I am... or was his attorney," the man nodded. "I believe you handled his murder investigation. I know you are probably wondering what Mr. Gregory has to do with your lab technician, but I'm afraid that is something that I should discuss with Mr. Sanders. If he would like to tell you after I speak with him that is up to him. I have a busy day today, would you mind letting me know where I can find Mr. Sanders."

Grissom cast a long glance at the Lawyer. "Mr. Sanders is dead. I am afraid I am a bit confused regarding Mr. Gregory."

"Dead?" Craig repeated. "How did he die? When I last spoke to Shawn he didn't say anything about it."

"Mr. Jeffries." Grissom leaned forward. "Greg and Shawn are the same person."

Craig stared at the older man for a moment, "I'm sorry, Mr. Grissom I don't understand. What do you mean that they were the same person?"

"Greg Sanders was Shawn Gregory," he explained patiently. "We have the evidence if you need proof. Greg lived a double life as the lab tech here and as a businessman out there. He fooled a lot of people."

Craig looked at the CSI supervisor and chuckled. He found it interesting that the people who solved crimes for a living had made such a mistake. "Let me guess, you found Shawn dead and mistook him for his twin brother?"

"Twin brother?" Grissom looked confused.

"Yes, Shawn found out almost a year ago. He knew he was adopted, but when one of his clients had mistaken him for your lab tech he hired an investigator and learned that he had an identical twin brother who was adopted by a different family. I didn't agree with him leaving anything to his brother who he didn't know, but he had insisted," Craig explained.

Grissom nodded slowly as he leaned back in his chair. "Now I understand why the DNA was the same but their looks were slightly different. Not their faces but clothes, hair, and Shawn had a number of tattoos."

"Yes, from what Mr. Gregory told me about what he had learned and observed about his brother; he was a straight and narrow type of guy. Someone who is dependable and hardworking," Craig nodded. "Can I ask if you know where Mr. Sanders might be? I assume since you mistook Mr. Gregory for your lab tech for this long he must have either quit, was fired, or was away from your lab for other reasons."

"We buried Greg Sanders in his home town a couple of days ago." Grissom replied not yet convinced.

Craig shook his head, "You mean you buried Shawn Gregory in Greg Sanders home town. I suppose that everyone believes Greg is dead too. You know Mr. Grissom," Craig said taking a card out of his jacket pocket. "When you find Mr. Sanders and come to terms with the horrible mistake you have made would you please give him my card so I can inform him of what was left for him in the will. As per the dictates of the will I also have to explain to him the fact that he had a brother in the first place. Who knows maybe Mr. Sanders will want to hire me as well." Craig sat his business card on the desk in front of Gil Grissom, turned, and walked out of the office. He shook his head as he thought about the problems Greg Sanders was going to have when he returned from wherever he had been for nearly two weeks."

* * *

Kirstie Sanders wiped sweat from her forehead as she scrubbed her oven. The ringing of the telephone caused her to jump. She quickly removed her cleaning gloves and picked up the cordless phone that sat on a nearby counter. "Hello," she spoke into the device.

"Gil Grissom here, I am sorry for the intrusion," he answered.

"Mr. Grissom," Kirstie said. She had not expected to hear from the man again especially not so soon. "What can I do for you?"

"Mrs. Sanders, there have been unexpected developments in your son's case and I have a few questions, if you don't mind," he said carefully.

"What would you like to know?" she asked as she sat on a bar stool in front of the kitchen island.

Grissom cleared his throat before he spoke again. "I know this is a very private matter, but was Greg adopted?"

Kirstie had to suppress a gasp at the unexpected question. "Excuse, Mr. Grissom why would you need to know that?" She clenched her hands into fists as she spoke. How could this man call and ask such a question, and so soon after her son's murder? This man had a lot of nerve.

"I am not trying to intrude in your life but considering the latest evidence I do need to know."

"And what evidence is that? What could you possibly need to know whether he was adopted or not for? I thought you already have his murderer behind bars?" Kirstie questioned, wondering what kind of game he was playing.

"We have a murderer that is true," he said, cautious not to give anything away. "There is another lead I am trying to follow for now."

"So now you think there is someone else involved in his murder?" Kirstie sighed. "And you think knowing whether or not Greg was adopted will help you find this other person?"

"Yes, I do believe it will help indeed," he said with conviction.

"Really, because I don't see the relevance, unless you can explain it to me I am going to hang up this phone Mr. Grissom," Kirstie told him angrily.

Grissom swallowed hard. He had expected her to be reluctant but not to resist in such a manner. "I did not call to upset you any further than you already are over Greg's death. Unfortunately at this point I cannot reveal anything more to you until I have the proof I need," he paused for a brief moment. "If you believe you have to hang up than I have to accept that, but I do hope you will at least give me the name of the adoption agency before you do so."

"What... I didn't say he was adopted," she stammered.

"It's not what you said, but what you didn't say." Grissom replied.

"What do you mean what I didn't say? Greg always said that you had a habit of speaking in riddles and quoting people," Kirstie commented.

"You never denied that he was adopted when I asked you." His tone was gentle knowing that this was a sensitive subject for anyone but especially for Kirstie at this time in her life.

Kirstie sighed, "It was the Little Hope Adoption Agency in Las Angeles."

"Is it possible at all that Greg had a twin brother?"

"Not that I know of," Kirstie said. "Is that what all this is about? You've been talking to Sara haven't you? Did she tell you about her dreams? Mr. Grissom, believe me, I would like to believe that my son is still alive more than anyone, but I saw his body. He's gone and he's not coming back, you and Sara have to let this go."

"Yes, I have been talking to Sara that is true." he admitted feeling suddenly awkward. "Call it a hunch, but I do need to follow this one more time."

"Mr. Grissom, my husband and I never got the chance to tell Gregory that he was adopted. I would appreciate that you do not broadcast that fact to the world. Now if you will excuse me, I was cleaning when you called and I need to get back to it," Kirstie told him.

"I would never compromise your confidentiality," he promised. "Thank you once again for telling me."

"Goodbye, Mr. Grissom," Kirstie said and hung up the phone with a sigh. She then dropped her head onto the table and began to cry. She wondered if she would ever be able to stop wishing for Greg's return, despite knowing that she would never see him or hear his voice again.

* * *

Grissom looked at the number of the adoption agency for a moment before he finally reached for the phone, but even then he hesitated. Finally he gave himself a mental shove and dialed the number. A young female answered. "Hello, my name is Gil Grissom from the Las Vegas Crime Lab." he introduced himself.

"What can I do for you Mr. Grissom," the woman at the adoption agency answered wondering what the Las Vegas Police wanted from them.

"I am looking for some information in regards to an adoption that was finalized 27-years-ago," he explained.

"I can't give out that information, Sir," she said. "I need to transfer you to my supervisor Mrs. Fitchburg."

"I would be pleased if you did," Grissom said. He then waited patiently until another female voice answered. Her voice sounded older with a hard edge to it.

"Mr. Grissom, I presume," she asked. "Mrs. Fitchburg here, I was told you are looking for information."

"Yes, Ma'am," he inhaled deeply aware that this phone call as well would not go over smoothly. "This is in regards to Greg Sanders; He was adopted 27 years ago."

"Sir, I can't just give you confidential information on merits alone," she said firmly. "I need proof that you are who you say you are."

"I can fax over my photo and ID if that is sufficient enough." Grissom told her.

"That will do. Here is my fax number. Once I receive your information I will call you back and give you what you need," she said before hanging up.

Not long after Grissom had finished faxing his phone rang and Mrs. Fitchburg answered, this time in a more collegial voice. "What is it you would like to know, Mr. Grissom?"

"Mrs. Fitchburg, did Greg have a twin brother?"

He heard her push keys on a computer before she answered. "Yes, he did but the agency found it wiser if they were adopted by different couples at the time," there was a meaningful pause. "How do you know?"

"I... we... think that we might have buried the wrong person, assuming it was Greg Sanders." He could hear her gasp at the other end.

"Oh my God," she huffed. "His brother's name is... hold on... here it is...Reed Cooper."

"Thank you very much for all of your help Mrs. Fitchburg. This will certainly change everything we thought we knew," he looked at the top of his desk. "Have a good day."

"Glad I could help under these circumstances," she replied with sadness.

"Have a good day."

Grissom stared at the row of glass jars on one of the shelves deeply lost in thought. Was Shawn Gregory really Reed Cooper? Had he taken on a false identity with forged passports and other papers? If that was so, why was it necessary? Every time a door opened in this case another complication came with it. His fingers drummed a fast rhythm on his desk while he sorted out the twists and turns they had encountered so far when he noticed Archie approaching his office quickly.

"Grissom," Archie said rushing into the older man's office holding a small stack of printouts. "He's not dead. I was looking through Shawn's notes in the laptop and found a note on one of his clients in law enforcement who thought Shawn was Greg because he'd seen Greg at the lab. Archie handed the printout to Grissom. Shawn mentioned hiring a private investigator to find out more about it. I then looked up the name Greg Sanders and found notes on him. Shawn said that his PI discovered that he has a biological twin brother who was adopted by a family in San Gabriel, California while he was adopted by another family in LA," Archie smiled. "I think we could have buried the wrong one. I mean if Greg really went on vacation to Miami and since we found the body in Shawn's penthouse..."

Grissom lifted his hand. "I know," he said and motioned for Archie to sit.

"You... what?" Archie questioned sitting down suddenly.

"Shawn's lawyer came to speak with Greg earlier tonight. I found out the name of the adoption agency from Greg's mother, but his twin's name is Reed Cooper," Grissom explained while he pulled the papers toward him.

"Well, Shawn's license was a fake. We assumed that Greg Sanders was his real name, but most likely Reed Cooper was his real name. I can't believe he's still alive," Archie grinned. "Do you know where Greg is? Is he still in Florida?"

"No, he is not," Grissom looked at Archie. "You cannot speak to anyone about this, do you hear?"

"But... I don't understand. Everyone was so upset. They should know that he's alive. And if he's not in Florida where is he?" Archie questioned, his smile faded from his face, replaced by one of confusion.

"He was apprehended in Miami and is on his way here," Grissom gave Archie a firm gaze. "I don't want anyone to know yet to avoid anymore complications."

"Apprehended? You mean he was arrested, why?" Archie asked wide-eyed.

"He was using one of his credit cards after it was cancelled due to his supposed death," Grissom explained patiently. "Brass is at the airport to pick Greg up."

"Does Brass know that he is really Greg?" Archie asked.

"No," he simply said.

Archie smiled again and chuckled, "I'd like to see his face when he sees Greg come off the plane."

"Me too, to be honest," although his lips curled into a smile his eyes did not.

"You know, Nick has been so angry because we thought Greg lied to us, we may have to warn him and the rest of the lab before they see him," Archie commented. He couldn't wait to welcome his friend home, but he wasn't sure how the others would react without sufficient warning first.

"We'll see about that," Grissom said thoughtful. He would ask Brass to use another entrance into the building.

To be continued...


	13. Chapter 12

_Authors Note_: Thanks for all the reviews, we really appreciate them. We are also sorry for the delay in updates lately. The entire story is now complete and we've already started the sequel, however, real life has been interfering with editing the rest of the story. Because of vacations, the next update will be put off for about another month. After that, however, they should be regular, and possibly there will be more than one chapter updated at a time.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

Brass impatiently watched the passengers coming out of Gate Twelve. He was looking for a man bearing a slight resemblance to Greg Sanders followed by a police officer from Miami Florida. He could not wait to get his hands on the man. The employees of the Crime Lab had gone through enough recently and did not need to deal with a thief too. Suddenly his eyes grew wide as he watched a very familiar looking young man in handcuffs walk out of the gate followed by a police officer.

"No way," he muttered under his breath as the two men approached him. The perp had much more than a slight resemblance to Sanders, he looked more like the dead lab tech than his dead body had. The perp's skin was tanner though and his hair was spiked with blonde tips just like it had been the last time he had seen him alive. Brass shook his head as they got closer to him; this had to be some messed up coincidence.

"Captain Brass?" Officer McKinley said when he noticed him.

"Brass," Greg, who had been staring at the ground trying to avoid the curious glances of the people around him, looked up and sighed with relief hoping the familiar person before him could help him.

"Yes, I'm Captain Brass from the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Is this the man you caught using Greg Sanders credit card," he questioned.

"Yes, he is," McKinley looked from Brass to Greg. "He hasn't been any trouble at all."

Greg stared at Brass wide eyed. Why was he treating him like a criminal too? Greg bit his lip and wondered if this nightmare would ever end.

"That's good, Officer. I can take him from here? Do you have your arrangements all set," he ignored the prisoner.

"Yes, I do. There is another flight to Miami in a couple of hours," he handed a large manila envelope to Brass. "This is the processing paperwork from our department and his belongings," he turned to Greg. "I have to admit, it has been a pleasure meeting you."

"No offence, but I can't say the feeling's mutual," Greg commented dryly turning his gaze down to the floor again.

"I understand. Well, Captain Brass, I shall leave you and Mr. Sanders now." he shook Brass' hand.

Brass did not release the young officer's hand. "Officer McKinley," Brass read from the name tag on his uniform. "You called him Sanders. Greg Sanders is dead; we buried his body in California already. You should not blindly believe whatever a prisoner tells you, they tend to lie," Brass said coldly. He released the officer's hand and grabbed the suspect's arm leading him away from the rookie.

Greg's head shot up at Brass upon hearing his harsh words. They think I'm dead. How could they believe he was dead, what the hell is going on?

McKinley watched Brass lead Greg away while he shook his head in disbelief.

Brass silently led the suspect to his car in the parking lot and put him in the backseat. He closed and locked the door without saying a word before he got into the front seat and started the car. He wondered if he should call Grissom before they reached the lab to tell him how much their suspect really looked like Sanders.

"Brass, why am I being treated like a criminal, and why did you tell Officer McKinley that I'm dead," Greg demanded.

"Listen," Brass sighed. "I admit you look a lot like Greg Sanders, but we buried Greg a few days ago. I saw his dead body with my own eyes, I don't know what exactly is going on, but until I find out for certain you are a prisoner and under my custody for using the stolen credit cards of Greg Sanders."

"You've got to be kidding me. I am Greg Sanders. You obviously buried the wrong person. How the hell could you fuck up so badly? I work for the second best crime lab in the country for Christ's sake," Greg complained.

"You might want to keep that mouth of yours quiet, I wouldn't want to have to shoot you," Brass threatened. His head was beginning to pound. He knew bringing this young man, whether he proved to be Greg or not, would cause chaos through out the lab. He considered calling Grissom again when his cell phone began to ring. "Brass," he said after opening the device and bringing it to his ear.

"Grissom here, listen; don't bring him through the main entrance. Use the back," he urged.

"Gil, what is going on? You know something about our suspect don't you," Brass questioned glancing at his Prisoner through his rear view mirror.

"I can't talk right now; I will see you at the lab. Take him to one of the interrogation rooms near the back stairs."

Before Brass could respond to his friend the phone was disconnected. "Damn it," he muttered and closed the phone. He glanced at his prisoner and wondered if they had made a huge mistake. Grissom had sounded very odd and he knew that something was wrong.

The rest of the ride was made in silence. Brass couldn't help but keep glancing at his passenger. He noted the young man looked dejected, like a lost child trying to find their way back home. After he pulled up in the back of the crime lab he first went to his trunk and pulled a LVPD police cap out of it before letting his prisoner out. Once the taller young man exited the car, he put the hat on top of his head lowering the brim so that the young man could barely see over it. "Keep your head down; we don't want to start a riot if anyone sees who you look like."

Brass then grabbed the man's arm and led him inside the back of the lab and into one of the interrogation rooms. He removed the handcuffs from his hands once inside the room and spoke. "Sit I need to go and speak with Grissom," he told him. He frowned when the younger man did not say anything. If he really was Greg, it was one of the few times he had ever not heard him make a comment. He knew for Sanders that was not a good sign. With one last glance at the younger man he left the room and locked the door behind him.

* * *

Grissom had made up his mind. He dialed Sara's number and it was of no surprise that she answered after the first ring. "Sara its Gil... yes, how are you? Glad you feel better... I would like you to come to the lab...in two hours... no, I can't tell you but it has to do with Greg's case... No, I don't think so... Good, see you in a couple of hours... Bye Sara..."

Walking purposely through the hallways, Captain Brass finally reached his destination and entered Gil Grissom's office without knocking to find his friend on the phone.

Grissom hung up and looked up at Brass who had entered his office just before he hung up. "Yes Brass?"

"You know something about the guy who is locked in the interrogation room five, don't you? It's farthest from anyone who may be able to see him. Oh and might I add that this guy looks more like Greg Sanders than our dead body, which we buried in California, does. What is going on Gil?"

"Sit down Brass," Grissom said. "I will explain."

Brass sighed and sat down. He had a feeling that he was about to receive some very interesting news. Unfortunately that news may cause a lot of problems for the LVPD and the Crime Lab. "I'm all ears, but just let me inform you that the man in the interrogation room is not happy. If you are about to tell me what I think you are, you should know that I've never seen him so quiet, although, I did threaten to shoot him in order to get him to be quiet."

Grissom sat back after he had filled a cup with hot coffee for Brass and himself. He looked at his friend for a while before he began to unfold what he had learned while Brass had gone to the airport. Grissom watched the Detective's reaction when he had finished waiting for the other man's reply.

Brass sighed and took a drink of the coffee that Grissom had taken from the break room and put in his office again. The first time he did it Greg Sanders had been horrified to find the coffee pot missing. He remembered when he saw the lab tech that day; he had thought that there had been a death in Greg's family or something. Brass shook his head; yesterday he would have found the story sad because yesterday the lab tech was dead. But now he had learned that his suspicions were true, Greg was alive and sitting in an interrogation room like a common criminal.

"Alright, now let me make sure I understand this. Greg Sanders went to his vacation in Miami, tried to buy an earlier flight back to Vegas using his credit card, and was arrested for using a stolen credit card because his cards were canceled. And his twin brother who no one knew he had was buried in his home town instead of him. We buried the wrong guy." Brass shook his head. "We already found a replacement for him in the lab, and as I understand it his parents gave away half his belongings to any of his friends who wanted them," Brass sighed. "Do you realize how bad this can be for the department? Does the under sheriff know yet?"

Grissom shook his head. "No, he does not. I need to speak to Greg first and then I will take the appropriate steps. I will take the responsibility and should there be anything in the media I'll take care of it," he turned the coffee mug between his fingers. "This is quite a mess and I don't know how everyone will respond to the news."

"Well, once the initial shock wears off I think they will be very glad that he is alive," he sighed. "I think we should go speak to Greg, before he has a stroke. He was very angry that I kept treating him like he was a criminal. It would have been much easier if you told me on the phone who he really was," Brass told him.

Grissom stood up. "Yes, let me talk to him. I am sure it won't be too pleasant, but then he has every right to be angry. And yes, I should have told you."

"Do you want me to go with you, or would you prefer to speak with him alone," Brass questioned.

"I think I'll speak with him alone, but I appreciate the gesture," Grissom said solemnly.

* * *

Grissom walked through the halls, he suddenly felt as if he was going through the lab for the first time. Usually familiar noises had a new sound to them and even the busy lab techs doing their work looked differently. Avoiding any run-ins with anyone else Grissom walked faster until he reached the door of the room that housed Greg. When his knock was not answered he opened the door and walked inside only to find Greg asleep with his arms folded on the table his head resting on his arms. Grissom looked down to him for a moment noticing the pallor and fatigue below the young man's tanned skin. Only reluctantly did he touch Greg's shoulder to wake him up.

Greg woke as soon as he felt a hand on his shoulder. His heart racing as his head shot up and he looked around his surroundings. Once he saw a familiar face standing beside him he released the breath that he just now realized he had been holding. "Grissom," he groggily spoke as he rubbed his tired eyes.

"Hello Greg," Grissom said. "Anything I can get you?"

"You can get me the hell out of here. Or are you going to put me in another jail cell," Greg asked.

"No, that is not necessary and I want apologize for the treatment Captain Brass gave you," Grissom sat down at the other side of the table.

"Just tell me why I am being treated like a criminal?" Greg sighed and looked Grissom in the eye before continuing. "In Miami they accused me of stealing my own credit cards. I just wanted to get an earlier flight back to make sure that Sara was alright. Sh... She called me early in the morning while I was in my hotel room. I was half asleep when she called. I thought maybe she didn't recognize my voice, so I called back, but she didn't answer. I was worried that something was wrong, that something happened at the lab you know. I was supposed to come home in a few days anyway so I thought I'd cut my vacation a little short and make sure everything was alright. Why did Brass tell Officer McKinley that I was dead?"

"Because we buried you... or at least we all thought so including your parents," Grissom looked straight at Greg. "As a result all of your cards were cancelled."

"You buried me?" Greg repeated wide eyed. "But I was in Miami. You knew I was going to Miami on a two week vacation. I asked you for the time off two years ago. I didn't take a vacation last year so I could have two weeks off to go. How could you think I was... dead? And my parents, they believe that I'm dead too?" Greg ran a hand through his hair in aggravation. He could not understand what his supervisor was trying to tell him. "How could you do that? Didn't you check for DNA or finger prints? Grissom how the hell could this happen?"

"I don't know," Grissom shook his head. "We did check the DNA and the other guy looked just like you. We found the body the day of your departure. Greg, there is a lot more I need to tell you and I hope you will hear me out."

"I'm locked up in the Crime Lab away from all my friends who may see me for Christ's sake, Grissom; do I even have a choice about anything anymore? They took my wallet, my cell phone, even my keys, my luggage is still at my hotel in Miami, I don't know if my friends know what happened to me, and for the first time in my life I was forced to spend a night in a jail cell where I was treated like I had no rights. Do you know how hard it is to sleep in a jail cell full of drunken degenerates who keep staring at you like a piece of meat when they're not calling you names like sweetheart and others I'd rather not repeat?" Greg nervously cracked his knuckles as he waited for the older man's response.

"No, I don't know what it is like to spend the night in jail and I can only repeat how sorry I am this had to happen to you." Grissom could see the anger rising in Greg. "We were not sure if it was really you or just someone who had found your stuff." He waved his hand when Greg took a breath to speak. "I know how all of this looks and I have never botched a case like this one. You will be able to see your friends and call your parents, but first I must tell you a few things that are very important to you."

Greg nodded his head. He was sure that he was not going to like what he was about to hear, but he let his boss speak. Several times during the story he had to bite his lip to refrain from interrupting. The tale he was hearing sounded more like a television miniseries than his life.

When Grissom finally came to the end he took a long look at Greg. "And that is the end of this story."

Greg stared at Grissom. He opened and closed his mouth several times before deciding what to say first. There were so many thoughts swimming around his mind that he feared his head would explode from the pressure. "I was adopted," he finally spoke. "My parents lied to me for 27 years, and you... my friends believed I would lie to you since the first day I started working here." Greg could feel his hands begin to tremble and quickly put them in his pockets as he stood up and began to pace back and forth.

"Sometimes we only see what we think we should," Grissom watched him pace. "Greg, don't blame your parents. I am sure they were afraid you would leave them if they told you. It has happened many times with adopted children. And as to all of us, there is nothing I can say that would minimize any of what happened. Sara was the only one who insisted that you were still alive. I have to say to her credit."

"Why shouldn't I blame them? If I would have known I was adopted none of this would have happened. If I had known and you or Nick or anyone else was aware of that fact you would have looked into the possibility that I might have had a twin I didn't know about, with someone else's ID. I'm sure they had their reasons for not telling me Grissom, but hell I think I would have been ok with it. My best friend in high school was adopted, he was fine with it," Greg ranted as he paced back and forth. Suddenly he stopped as a thought occurred to him, "Grissom, did you replace me in the lab yet?"

"Yes but he just started the day before yesterday and was not well received by anyone," Grissom answered. "All of this was an unfortunate series of events."

"An unfortunate series of events," Greg sighed shaking his head. "Do you really think that makes everything better? It was just an unfortunate series of events," he repeated raising his voice. "You believed I was capable of living a double life, do you realize how much that hurts? Obviously you didn't trust me very much, if you ever trusted me at all."

"I know it is most likely too late, but as a matter of fact I did and still do trust you. Your parents do not know about what happened or what any of us thought happened," Grissom stood up. "As much as we might have doubted it the evidence seems to speak for itself. Greg, I know there is nothing that can reverse or erase what happened; and I completely understand if you decide not to remain with us," He sighed deeply. "We would hate to lose such a capable scientist and colleague as you."

"Yeah, but you already replaced me, and thought I was dead so it won't be such a stretch for you to accept. And since you already have a replacement I assume that you don't need me to give you my two weeks notice," Greg commented looking at the floor.

"I want you to think about it before you make a decision," Grissom said firmly. "You are as much of an asset to this team as anybody else."

Greg shook his head, "I don't think I have to think about it, Grissom. Everyone who I thought was my friend believed I was capable of lying to them for years, how am I just supposed to forget that? You may trust me, but I don't know if I will be able to trust you or anyone else. Brass threatened to shoot me because I tried telling him he was wrong. I will think about it, but I doubt I will change my mind. I'll even get you an official letter of resignation. Now can I please go home? Oh and can you ask Brass if I can have my wallet and stuff back?"

"There is no need for a letter of resignation, and I will make sure you get your belongings back as soon as we get out of this room." Grissom suddenly felt old and sad.

"Good, I'm going to need my phone to call a cab," Greg commented. "Do you want me to put the hat Brass made me wear back on so no one sees me?" He had already grabbed the hat off the table in anticipation of the man's answer.

"No, there is no need for that. Come to my office and I will get you a ride home while you wait for everything else."

"Fine," Greg sighed. "I think I'll wear the hat anyway. I don't think I'm ready for anyone else to recognize me right now. I don't want to talk to anyone else anyway," he told him as he put the hat back on.

To be continued...


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Sara walked swiftly toward Grissom's office wondering what he really wanted from her now. What was the sense of being on suspension when he kept calling her into the office? Her frown deepened the closer she came to his office but when she entered she almost stumbled...

"Sara," Greg said quickly standing up. Her sudden presence had surprised him, but she looked more surprised to see him. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again unsure what to say. How do you say hello to someone who thought you were dead?

"Gr... Greg," she had to hold on to the door frame as she began to feel faint. "I... you... are alive," her face paled while her knees buckled under her.

"Whoa," Greg said rushing over to her and quickly wrapping his arm around her waist to prevent her from falling over. "It's alright just breathe, Sara. A mistake was made, I'm not dead," he assured her.

Sara looked into his eyes while he helped her into Grissom's chair. Breathing heavily she croaked. "Is it really you?"

"Yes, it's really me," he smiled slightly as he knelt down beside her. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I think Grissom wanted to gather everyone together and explain everything to you," Greg told her. He should have stayed in the interrogation room, he should have known he'd run into someone he knew in Grissom's office. He wondered suddenly if Grissom got annoyed when people entered the office without knocking. "Are you alright?"

"I am not sure." she rubbed her temples with her eyes closed. "I think I am just dreaming again."

"Dreaming," he chuckled. "You're not dreaming. Grissom said that you were the only one who believed I was still alive. You don't know how much that means to me right now." His head felt itchy underneath the hat that he was unaccustomed to wearing.

"You kept telling me in my dreams that you were still alive," Sara lifted her hand as if to touch his face but let it fall back onto the desk. "And it's just like that now."

"What are you talking about," Greg questioned. "I haven't spoken to you since you called me in Miami; although, that really wasn't much of a conversation since you didn't say anything. You did believe I was alive didn't you, like Grissom said you did?"

"I did," she nodded vigorously. "You told me in a dream to call you but when no one answered I… wasn't so sure anymore. Yes, I told him about my dreams because he worried about me."

"Are you insane? You were nasty to me before I left for vacation and now that I'm back you don't make any sense. I did answer my cell phone, but you didn't answer me," Greg said standing up.

"I didn't hear anything," Sara looked at Greg. "I am sorry for having been mean."

"I don't get it Sara; you were such a bitch before I went to Miami, why are you being so nice to me now? I just wanted to have dinner with you before I left for two weeks. Why is it that everyone has to think I'm dead before they're nice to me?"

"I already told you I was sorry, what more do you want? You taunted me with dreams every single night. I have not slept much, I got suspended because of you, and now I am here with you again and instead of being like you have been in all the other dreams you tell me that I am a bitch?" Sara rose to stand in front of Greg, eyes blazing.

"All the other dreams," Greg repeated. "You still think that this is a dream, so that's why you were nice to me. You were nice because you don't believe that any of this is real? And now you're blaming me for your lack of sleep and suspension. Damn right I'm calling you a bitch." Greg turned toward the door of the office. He looked back at her before he reached the door, "tell Grissom I needed to get some air," Greg told her and walked out into the hallway. Unfortunately as he stepped out of the office he ran into Nick Stokes who had apparently been about to enter the office too.

Before Sara could reply to anything, Greg was gone and she slumped into Grissom's chair. She laid her head on the desk and covered her face with her hands.

"Greg," Nick gasped as he looked up into the eyes of a ghost.

"Hey Nick," Greg sighed. Would he ever be able to get away from this nightmare that his life had suddenly become? He would have found the shocked expression amusing if he wasn't so tired and aggravated from the day's events.

"You son of a bitch," Nick said as he pushed Greg backward into the doorjamb. "What is going on buddy? Was your death a lie too? Is there anything that you didn't lie to us about?" As his anger seized him in an uncontrollable rage Nick clenched his hand into a fist and moved his arm to punch his friend as he heard both Warrick and Grissom calling his name behind him. Seeing the fear in Greg's eyes, he suddenly realized what he was doing and lowered his arm.

Greg immediately took the chance Nick's hesitation provided and quickly moved away from Nick. He then hurried away from Grissom's office toward the front doors of the Crime Lab as his heart pounded in his chest like a bass drum.

Warrick stared at Nick with his mouth open. When he finally spoke his voice still carried the shock he felt. "Nick, what in the world did you just do? Greg was scared shitless."

"What the hell is going on out here?" Grissom demanded.

"Greg?" Nick asked as he watched the younger man practically run down the hall. Without responding to either Warrick or Grissom Nick ran after him. "Greg," he yelled as he ran after him.

"Nick flipped out when he saw Greg," Warrick explained. "I can't believe it either that he is here. Man, this is messed up."

"I was going to have a meeting to prepare everyone, but I guess that is not necessary now." Grissom said grimly. Grissom motioned for Warrick to follow him outside.

"Leave me alone Nick," Greg yelled as the older man followed him outside.

"Greg," Nick said standing next to him. For the first time he took a close look at him, and noticed his tanned skin and spiky hair. It was what he saw in the younger man's eyes, however, that bothered him the most; he saw anger, pain, and fear. "I'm sorry; I was surprised to see you. I thought you were dead."

"I know, Grissom told me. Don't worry as soon as Grissom gives me my stuff I will leave and none of you will have to see me again," Greg told him looking down at the sidewalk. His hands were trembling again he noted and quickly put them back into his pockets.

"Don't go Greg, we've missed you," Nick said. "Right, you missed me so much you wanted to punch me," Greg yelled at him and glanced at Grissom and Warrick who walked out of the building.

"I'm sorry man; you got to understand when I saw you all my anger and frustrations over all the lies..."

"Lies," Greg yelled. "I never lied to you, Nick. I can't believe you. After all the years you've known me, you really believed I would have lied to you. I thought we were friends."

"We were... are, we are friends G," Nick assured him.

"You don't get it Nick. Grissom told me all about my twin brother I never knew I had. Damn it Nick, it hurts me that you would believe I lied to you. That you really thought I wouldn't tell you if I owned a smutty toy factory or an Escort Service. Hell, I probably would have given you guys' discounts on your purchases. You should have known I would have told you about it," Greg told him. With a sigh he walked over to where Grissom and Warrick stood watching them. "Can I have my stuff now, Grissom? I really need to get out of here."

"Nick, Greg is right, we shouldn't have believed that he lived a double life, but the damage has been done. I wonder if we will ever reconcile with him." Warrick looked at Nick with sad eyes.

"You can," Grissom turned asking Greg to follow him. "It won't take much longer."

"You didn't get them yet," Greg sighed. "What the fuck were you doing in there? Listen, if you don't mind I think I will wait out here while you get them for me," Greg said.

Grissom just nodded to Greg and decided not to answer his question. Too much had been said already.

Feeling like he had just lost a long harrowing war, Nick walked away from Greg and headed back into the Crime Lab. He could see lab techs standing near the glass doors watching them curiously. He ignored them as he entered the lab and retreated to the locker room.

"Greg," Warrick said as he walked toward him. "Glad to see you're back."

Greg shrugged his shoulders and watched as Grissom entered the building to retrieve his belongings. "Can't exactly say that I'm glad to be back," he said quietly. At least Warrick hadn't treated him like an idiot yet. Greg thought that was kind of ironic since Warrick was usually the one who tended to have the least amount of patience for his behavior and would often snap at him.

"Man, this is so damn awkward standing here with you," Warrick gave him a lopsided grin. "Everything is so messed up and although we had trouble believing all this stuff we still did. I don't know what else to say but sorry."

"I don't know either," Greg said. He decided that since his attempt to keep people from recognizing had failed horribly he no longer needed the hat. He removed the hat and handed it to Warrick. "Can you give this back to Brass for me?"

"I will. I heard he gave you the special treatment," Warrick took the hat turning it between his hands.

"Yeah," Greg snorted. "If by special treatment you mean treating me like a criminal and threatening to shoot me for telling him he was wrong," Greg shook his head and glanced toward the doors to see if Grissom was coming yet.

"Yeah, Brass goes a little overboard sometimes, but you should have seen him hanging around the lab and the look on his face because you were not in there."

"I guess you are all going to have to get used to me not being around anymore," Greg commented. What was taking Grissom so long?

"What do you mean?" Warrick said suddenly alert.

"Grissom already replaced me," Greg shrugged his shoulders. "Besides I don't think I'd feel comfortable staying here. I had a tour of the Crime Lab in Miami, they were cool, told me that if I ever wanted a change of scenery that they would make room for me. I think I might take them up on that offer."

"Don't make a rash decision. Nick took your death very hard. But Sara was a mess and she got suspended because she gave Grissom a lot of grief and, I guess, she got into a fight with him. It would be devastating to her if you left now."

"Yeah, she looked devastated when I saw her in Grissom's office," he rolled his eyes at his sarcastic remark. "Grissom made a point of telling me how she was the only one who believed I wasn't dead, but she thought I was a dream. She was cruel to me before I went on vacation and apparently is only nice when she thinks I'm dead or am just a dream," Greg commented bitterly. "Of course, she wasn't overly nice either. She did tell me it was my fault she got suspended and hasn't gotten much sleep."

"She feels a lot of guilt for doing so. I am not sure, but I think there is more to it than she let's on." Warrick gazed toward the door.

"Well she sure as hell fooled me," Greg commented following Warrick's gaze to the doors as Grissom finally walked back through them. He watched the older man walk toward them.

"Greg, here is everything Brass took from you," Grissom handed Greg a paper bag. "If anything is missing please let me know."

Greg nodded as he took the bag from Grissom. "Thanks," he said and started walking away from them. He was so frustrated with everything that he didn't even bother to correct his former boss about the fact that the police officer's in Miami were actually the ones who took his things from him.

"Greg wait up," Warrick called after him. "I can give you a ride home."

Greg turned back to look at him as Warrick rushed up beside him. If he had not been so exhausted he might have refused anything thing else from his former co-workers, but he honestly didn't think he would be able to make it to his apartment on foot. "Thanks," he said.

"No sweat," Warrick replied. "It's right over there."

Greg nodded and followed him to his SUV. "Do you know where my apartment is?" He quickly covered his mouth as he yawned.

"I do," Warrick started the car and began to drive. "It's not that far."

Greg nodded and leaned his head against the cool window as Warrick started driving away from the Las Vegas Crime Lab.

Soon enough Warrick heard Greg's even breathing and when he looked to the side he noticed that his young colleague had indeed fallen asleep. After another 15 minutes he parked the car outside Greg's apartment. "Hey, wake up, you are home."

Greg groggily lifted his head and looked around. He was almost surprised to see that his car was still parked in his parking spot just as he had left it nearly two weeks ago. "Thanks," Greg said opening the door of the car.

"Any time," Warrick got out of the car. "Let me come in with you."

He was so tired that he didn't argue with Warrick, although he did wonder why he wanted to come with him. He hoped he wasn't going to try to convince him to stay again. As Greg walked up the stairs to his apartment door he dug his keys out of the bag in his hand and quickly unlocked the door. He walked in and gasped as he noticed several things missing in the living room. "What the fuck?"

"I wanted to tell you in the car, but you fell asleep," Warrick said quietly. "Your parents allowed us to take a few things to remember you by and they took whatever they wanted to keep of yours too."

"Great, just when I thought this day couldn't get any worse," Greg commented. As he looked around the room his eyes stopped at his desk and the void in the middle of it. "They took my lap top too."

"I guess. Sorry I don't know anything else about this," Warrick felt for Greg. What a homecoming, first he was treated like a criminal; then one of his best friends almost beat him up; and now this. "Will you be alright in here?"

"Yeah, I don't know what's missing in the rest of the apartment yet, but at least they didn't take the couch," he commented. "I won't have as much to pack now," he tried to joke, but somehow it fell flat.

"Well, I believe you should think about leaving the lab," Warrick put his hand on Greg's shoulder. "Take care now."

"You too," Greg told him. He watched him walk out the door. He didn't think he would see him again. With a sigh he dropped the bag on his couch, since someone had taken his coffee table, and made his way toward his bedroom. He decided that he would take inventory of what was missing later. He quickly removed his shirt and pants until he wore only his boxers. With another yawn he climbed into his bed that he was very glad to have found still in his room. As his eyes began to close he could have sworn he smelled the fruity scent of Sara's shampoo, but chuckled slightly at the absurdity of the thought.

* * *

Nick sat quietly in the crowded break room with nearly every night shift lab tech and CSI who did not have the night off. Catherine sat beside him after being called by Grissom to momentarily leave her crime scene and come to the mandatory meeting. Sara sat on the other side of him looking just as upset as Nick felt. The only CSI missing was Warrick, who Grissom said had taken Greg home first.

While sitting in the break room Nick had heard several lab techs discussing what the meeting could be about. Some had heard rumors that Greg Sanders was alive and assumed the meeting had something to do with that. One tech had said that he heard Greg had to fake his death as a part of the witness protection program for the FBI, but the criminal was killed so now he could come back. Nick looked up as the break room doors opened and Grissom walked into the room.

Grissom did not get far into the room because it was filled to maximum capacity. He let his eyes roam over the men and women present. Their faces displayed confusion, surprise, and uncertainty. He wondered how much everyone knew by now. "Hello everyone," he began. "I have called you here for this meeting because as most of you know by now Greg is not dead. He's alive and well," he paused to wait for the voices to quiet down.

"You can't be serious," Catherine blurted out. "I can't believe it."

"It is very true," Grissom answered over the noise. "He was here earlier. If everyone would please calm down I can explain what happened."

Nick sat still on the table, his hand held tightly onto the coffee mug, sitting on the tabletop; however, he made no move to raise the now cool liquid to his mouth. He could not believe what he had heard. Greg had gone to Miami like he was supposed to, and because they screwed up, he was treated like a criminal, thrown in jail, and then learned that they all believed he was a liar when in fact it was Greg who was lied to his entire life about being adopted. Nick felt even worse now for how he reacted to seeing Greg; he had added fuel to the fired that was already consuming him. He feared Greg would never forgive him, and he couldn't blame him for it.

"Grissom," Archie's tentative voice spoke. It was barely audible over the other conversations. "How did Greg react when you told him and does he still have a job here?"

"He was very angry and righteously so," Grissom said. "I am not sure yet what his final decision will be. And yes, he still has a job here."

Sara opened her mouth to speak but closed it again not sure what exactly to say.

"He is thinking of going back to Miami," Warrick said as he stepped into the break room. "He told me that he toured the lab there and was told he could work there if he ever wanted to."

"No he can't do that," Sara said loudly. "He... he… can't just go away like that when he just came back."

"Why, Sara?" Catherine turned to her colleague wondering once again what was going on with her and Greg.

"Sara, he was hurt and angry that we thought he would lead such a life and I think he has every right to choose to leave whether we want him to or not." Grissom said to her.

"And you are just going to sit here and let him quit?" Sara said angrily, her eyes blazing.

Grissom took a deep breath. "No, but if I push him too hard it will produce the opposite result."

"Well, suit yourself, but I am not just standing by." Sara rose and left the room.

"We need to go to him and let him know how sorry we are," Nick spoke for the first time since the meeting had begun. "We need to let him know how much he means to us and how much we don't want to lose him. He needs to know that he's important to us and just how bad we all felt when we thought he was dead."


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

All Sara wanted now was to leave this building. What was wrong with Grissom and everyone else? Did they not care at all? Once she reached her car she left the parking lot with screeching tires and finally made it to Greg's apartment through the heavy early morning traffic. Sara jumped out of the car but when she rang Greg's doorbell there was no answer. She waited before knocking and ringing the doorbell again, but still there was nothing but silence. Panicked that something happened to him, Sara used the key to let herself in. It was quiet inside as she slowly made her way toward the bedroom where she opened the door carefully to find Greg asleep in his bed.

Her head tilted as she looked down to him. His skin was tanned and the highlights in his spiked hair were lighter now from the sun. She reached out to touch him, but refrained from doing so out of fear she would wake him. But she leaned down just enough to notice his scent. She inhaled deeply and then listened to his regular breathing and light snores. A sad smile crossed her face; Greg was so close and yet so far. Suddenly Greg moved and mumbled something she could not understand. At that point Sara decided to go home to give him the rest he needed. With one last glance she left the apartment and went home to her own place.

* * *

Fiona Johnston came out of her apartment and walked slowly toward the row of mailboxes in the front of the property to check if anything had come for her. She rubbed her back and moaned. The doctor kept advising her to go on a diet and exercise more, but that was easier said than done. Having been raised with Southern cuisine she had kept up her traditions even here. Not watching where she was going she bumped into another person. "I...I'll be damned." she muttered backing up, her eyes as large as plates.

"Hello, Mrs. Johnston," Greg nodded and watched as his landlady backed away from him with wide shocked eyes.

"It's me, I was on vacation in Miami for two weeks and I was mistakenly thought dead. I'm very much alive though," Greg explained with a sigh. He wondered how many more times he would have to tell the same story before people stopped looking at him like he was a ghost.

Fiona walked forward and poked Greg's arm until he winced. "Yup, you are alive," she cackled. "Must have made your homecoming very difficult?"

"Yeah, it was something, I'm not sure interesting would be the right word to describe it though," Greg told her.

"I am sorry for your troubles, dear." she took her mail out of the box and looked through it. "There is just one more thing," she gave him a motherly glance. "Your parents put your apartment up for rent and a young woman was interested in it."

"Oh, I see," Greg said. "How interested was she?"

"Very." Fiona fiddled with one of the envelopes. "She put down her security deposit already."

"I see," Greg nodded. Just when he thought the day couldn't possibly get any worse. "When is she supposed to move in?"

"This weekend, but I am sure she'll understand once I explain everything to her," Fiona assured him.

"This weekend," Greg repeated. "Don't worry about it, I was thinking about moving to Miami permanently anyway. Just maybe if you can get her to wait a week or two before she starts moving her stuff in, because I don't know if I will be able to get all my stuff out of there by this weekend."

"I hate to see you go, you have such a great sense of humor," her face looked sad. "I'll let her know and tell you what she said."

"Thanks Mrs. Johnston," Greg smiled slightly. "You have been a great landlady and I will really miss my apartment."

"Ah, thank you," she smiled broadly. "Well, when you return to Las Vegas I will always have a place for you."

"Thanks, I'm not sure if I will ever come back, but I will remember that incase my plans change," he assured her. He took the large pile of mail out of his mail box. Two weeks worth of mail was stuffed into the mail box.

"Well, I better get back and sit down. My back is just killing me today. Stop by later today and I'll let you know what the young lady said."

"I will stop in either tonight or tomorrow morning," Greg assured her. "Take care of your back," he told her and started walking back toward his apartment. He could not believe that he had to get out so soon, and couldn't help but wonder what he ever did to deserve losing his friends, the job he liked, and now his apartment all in the same day.

Fiona watched him walk away and shook her head. Poor guy. She would try to convince her new tenant to maybe wait longer than Greg had requested. He was such a nice boy and always polite not like most of her male tenants who were quite rude and demanding. Once she was back inside she looked for the phone number of her newest tenant.

* * *

Greg sighed as he rummaged through his kitchen searching for his prized Blue Hawaiian coffee. He could have sworn that he had left it in the cupboard above the coffee pot as he always did before he left. "No, no, no," he growled as he slammed another cupboard door and realized that someone must have taken his coffee too. Before he could search all of the cupboards again he heard his doorbell ring. "Damn it," he yelled as he turned and walked toward the door. Taking a deep breath he opened the door to find Archie and Jacqui standing outside.

"Whoa," Archie said when Greg pulled the door open with more force than necessary. "We are here in peace."

"Hello Greg," Jacqui said.

"Sorry, I was just looking for my coffee, but apparently someone took it to remember me by," Greg said sarcastically.

"Sorry to hear that," Archie said feeling suddenly awkward. "We just came to say hello and bring your lap top."

"We are worried," Jacquie looked at Greg. "I thought you might want a little company after all."

"Thanks," Greg said to Archie as he backed away from the door to allow them room to enter his apartment. "I'm not sure about really wanting company though. No offence, but I'm just not sure who I can trust anymore."

"I would feel the same if I were in your shoes." Archie handed him the computer. "I am very glad that you are still alive though."

"Nice place you have here," Jacquie looked around.

"Yeah, I'm going to miss it," Greg nodded as he took his lap top from Archie. He walked across the room and sat it on his desk where he had left it before going to Miami. "Have a seat," he told them as he turned back toward them."

"What do you mean miss it?" Jacquie raised an eyebrow, "Aren't you coming back to the lab?"

"I wasn't planning on it. I found out from my landlord today that she already found someone to move into my apartment. My parents told her she could rent it out. If I would have stayed in Miami a little longer I would have come home to find I didn't have a home at all anymore. God only knows what would have happened to my stuff that wasn't taken by my so called friends," Greg explained sitting down on his couch. He felt tired again despite sleeping all day.

"I am trying to understand how you feel, but you should not blame your parents, they didn't know better," Archie rubbed his knee. "You could have stayed with any of us."

"Greg, we are your friends we were just convinced that it was you who had...died," Jacquie added.

Greg closed his eyes a moment before he took a deep breath and stood up. "My parents lied to me my entire life. I come home from Miami in handcuffs to have my supervisor tell me that I was adopted. If I would have known you guys probably would have known. Then you may have thought to consider the possibility I could have had a twin brother that I didn't know about. Today I found out my friends thought I was a liar; I lost my job, lost my apartment, and now my coffee too. I can't think of anyone better to blame for this entire mess can you?"

Archie turned his head to look at Greg. "Wait a second, did Gris fire you? I thought he'd be glad to see you back. I never saw him this glum for as long as I worked there."

"No, he did not fire me. But since I don't feel I can trust the people I work with and they obviously don't trust me, I don't think I can work there again. Therefore, I have lost my job; doesn't matter much whether it was due to the fact that I quit. Grissom told me to think about it, but I'm not sue I need to," Greg said.

"Greg, don't blame your parents. They might have had reasons not to tell you that you were adopted," Jacquie gave him a light smile. "If you want to blame anyone blame all of us. I mean we were all fooled the same."

"But if you had known that I was adopted, you would have checked Shawn's fingerprints as well as DNA, and then you would have discovered that they did not match mine, Jacqui. I would have came home from the greatest vacation of my life to continue working as usual, but instead I was forced to leave Miami in police custody and forced into a living nightmare," Greg shook his head as he paced back and forth through his apartment. "This all could have been prevented."

"We checked the DNA and it matched." Jacqui played with a string on her shirt. "Look, I am not trying to justify what happened to you and I can't even imagine what you went through, but we can go on and on with the 'if's' and still not come to a solution. I can only speak for myself, but I am incredibly sorry about what happened."

"Well, I still trust you." Archie said firmly.

"Thanks Arch," Greg said and looked at the fingerprint tech, "Jacqui, could we please stop talking about this. I really don't need to keep arguing about this. Maybe if people stop arguing with me I may be able to come to terms with all of this and decide to stay. So far everyone seems to want to tell me what they think I should do. Right now the last thing I need is people telling me what I can do or should do."

"I am glad to talk about anything you want to," her lips curled into a warm smile.

"Same here Greg," Archie nodded in agreement. "Hey do you want me to get you some coffee?"

"It's alright Arch, I can survive without coffee for a while. Why don't we play some video games, I missed playing them while I was in Miami," Greg said, but suddenly realized that he had not checked the entertainment center to make sure he still had his game system. He walked toward his entertainment center and let out a sigh of relief that the system was still there, although he noticed a few of his games were missing. He felt as if he was robbed by his friends.

"What's the matter?" Archie stood up.

"Nothing, just making sure that my game system is still here. I'm missing some games, but we should still be able to find a game to play if you guys want to play," Greg replied.

"Do you have three controllers," Jacqui wanted to know. "I'd love to play too."

"Let's see," Greg said as he rummaged through the section of the entertainment center that he kept his extra controllers in. "Yes, I had six and now I have four."

Once Greg had finished setting up the game all three sat back down and began to play. It was just before the beginning of Archie's and Jacqui's shift when they left Greg's apartment.

* * *

Greg smiled as he put his game system and controllers away. He was glad that Archie and Jacqui had stopped by, he felt much better after playing games with them and almost felt like everything was back to normal. He wondered if maybe Grissom was right, and he would be able to work with everyone at the crime lab again. As he yawned his cell phone began to ring. Greg grabbed the device and flipped it open to answer it without checking the caller ID first. "Sanders," he spoke out of habit.

"Greg honey," Kirstie Sanders said. "It's your mother."

"I know who you are mom," Greg sighed wishing he had looked at the caller ID before answering the phone. He had noticed that his parents had tried to call him several times while he was asleep earlier. "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" there was a tinge of hurt in her voice. "I called because I am happy that you are alive and well and I wanted to hear your voice."

"I guess the feeling is not mutual then," Greg remarked. "You and dad lied to me for 27 years. How did you expect me to react?"

"We did not lie to you Gregory," Kirstie told him.

"Really, so when you allowed me to believe that I was your biological son all my life you weren't lying to me? When I was growing up you always taught me not to lie to people, but my entire life has been one huge lie."

"God Greg," Kirstie fought back her tears. She had always feared that this day would come. "Maybe you consider it a lie, but we are your parents, we raised and nurtured you, we love and care for you."

"We might not be your biological parents," Paul Sanders said suppressing his emotions. "But are we not the ones who took you into our hearts?"

"What would you call it? You sure as hell didn't tell me the truth. And that's not the point dad. You should know that I wouldn't have thought any less of you for having adopted me; I mean hell, its better than being raised by biological parents who never wanted you and treated you like shit or physically harmed you. But you didn't tell me. Did you not trust me to handle the truth or were you too proud to admit that I wasn't biologically yours?" Greg's tone of voice had begun to rise as he spoke to his parents.

"We were afraid you would leave us, yes." Kirstin was close to tears now.

"Son, we almost lost you and don't want to lose you again," Paul was at a loss of words. "If you can find it in your heart to forgive us..."

"I love you both, and I'm glad that you raised me, but I'm not ready to forgive you right now. Because you couldn't trust me with the truth my friends all believe that I lied to them and was living a double life, I had to spend a night in a jail cell in Miami, because I used my own god damned credit card and they thought I stole it, and then I find out that someone else is going to move into my apartment. Now if you don't mind, I need to start packing what I have left of my stuff," Greg said and hung up his phone before they could say anything else.

tbc...


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Greg sat at his desk checking his e-mail on his laptop and trying to calm down after his phone call with his parents. He could not believe that he had hung up on them. He had always had such a great relationship with them before and it hurt more than anything that his relationship with them had changed suddenly. Greg groaned when his doorbell rang again. He reluctantly stood up and walked to the door. Unsure if he wanted to deal with visitors right now, Greg looked through the peep hole and saw his nosy neighbor standing on the other side of his door. With a sigh he opened the door and said, "Mrs. Williams, can I help you?"

"Greg dear, I heard you were alive and just wanted to say I am glad you are." Before Greg was aware his neighbor stood up on her toes to hug him and pressed a kiss on his cheek. "Welcome home."

Awkwardly, he wrapped his arms lightly around the older woman. "Thank you."

"Any time," she let go of him. "I am sure your girlfriend must be glad to have you back among the living. She came here several times while you were gone."

"My girlfriend," Greg repeated, "What girlfriend?"

"The young woman who came to check on your place once in a while, she looked so sad." Mrs. Williams regarded him with a surprised expression.

"Do you know who she was," Greg asked.

"I don't know her name but she is the girl who works in the lab too. She was just here this morning, you must have missed her."

"This morning, do you know specifically what time this morning," Greg asked.

"I am not sure I just heard the door open," she thought for a moment. "I think it was around 8:00 a.m."

Seeing surprise and concern on her face Greg said, "Oh, yeah that girlfriend. Yeah, she was pretty upset; I was actually just about to go to her apartment to see her. If you would excuse me I need to get going."

"Of course, have a good day," she walked back to her apartment with a quick wave toward Greg.

"Damn it," Greg muttered as he closed his door. He couldn't imagine what Sara Sidle had been doing in his apartment several times since she thought he was dead and was especially interested in why she was there this morning when he was asleep in his bed. Leaving his computer on, he quickly put his shoes on, grabbed his keys, and hurried out the door making sure it was locked behind him.

* * *

Sara sat in her bed propped up against the head board, a large book on her knees. It wasn't the most exciting of stories but enough to make her sleepy and sleep was what she needed desperately. She turned the page when someone knocked on the door. "Oh what now," she muttered as she got out of bed and put on her robe. "Who is it?" Sara called toward the door.

"It's Greg," he yelled through the door. "I need to talk to you Sara."

"Hold on I am coming," she shouted back and hurried to open the door. "I am sorry I was already in bed." she apologized as she let him in.

"I'm sorry, did... did I wake you," he asked. The sight of her in a robe nearly made him forget why he had came to her apartment in the first place.

Sara pulled the robe closer around her. "No I was just reading in order to get some much needed sleep," she looked at Greg and then looked down. "Come and sit. Anything I can get you?" Suddenly Sara felt nervous and needed something to do.

"No, I'm fine," Greg said looking away from her and around her apartment. He noticed her living room walls were painted purple; somehow it did not seem to fit what he imagined her apartment would look like. He also noticed the picture from his college graduation sitting on top of an end table near her door way leaning against a lamp. "Sara," he said, "why do you have a picture of my graduation?"

"Oh that," she blushed slightly. "I was helping your parents get a few things and your mother said I could have it. I hope its ok. You can have it back..." Sara was unable to look at Greg. "I wanted something as a memory."

"You can keep it," Greg told her looking around her apartment he noticed boxes covering her floor near her entertainment center. He frowned as he noticed some of his shirts lying on the arm of her sofa. "Sara, why do you need a picture and shirts to remember me by? You made it perfectly clear before I left that you didn't want anything to do with me other than working with me. My neighbor said she saw my brunette girlfriend who I work with at my apartment several times while I was on vacation and she saw her there this morning while I was asleep. What were you doing Sara, looking for more of my things to take?"

Sara slumped down on the couch with a sinking feeling. "No Greg, I was not looking to take anything else other than the items your parents allowed me to take," her eyes glimmered with an expression Greg could not read. "Yes, I was not very friendly the day you asked me out because I had a bad day and I wasn't in the mood for company. I regretted my actions the moment I got home and when I found out you had been...killed." her voice choked and she paused for a moment. "I was filled with guilt and suddenly realized that I felt more for you than I would have ever allowed myself to admit. And then the dreams started..." Sara wrapped her arms around her legs. "I never said I was your girlfriend."

"Allowed yourself to admit," Greg repeated running his hand through his hair. "So you're telling me that you felt something for me, but you knew it wouldn't work? So what I'm just this weird looking lab tech with spiked hair who listens to loud music that you'd rather make feel like shit than let anyone see you on a date with me. What did you think you would accomplish by keeping my stuff? Did you think that you could pretend that we had a relationship, because since I was dead no one would ever know you felt something for me? You know, Nick was right. He told me when you first came to the lab that you were a bitch, but it took me this long to realize that he was right," he yelled.

"I didn't intend to pretend anything," she stood up quickly glaring at Greg. "I already apologized to you, what more do you want? Did you come here to tell me this or was it something else?" she felt her rationality fade. "So, I was considered a bitch, eh? If you would like to believe so then go ahead. Do you think being haunted by your images every night was easy? I thought if I took something of yours it would stop," her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"Oh here we go with the damned dreams again, what is up with that huh? Did you treat me like shit in your dreams too, or since they were just dreams were you able to be nice to me for a change? You know what Sara; you can keep anything that you took from my apartment, and maybe it will help you sleep at night after I transfer to Miami permanently. I wouldn't want to be the reason Sara Sidle couldn't sleep at night," Greg yelled and walked toward the door.

"I am sleeping fine now," she yelled at him. "No need to worry anymore, it's not like you really care anyway."

Greg stopped walking as he reached the door his hand on the cool metal of the door knob. Without turning around to look at her he opened the door and said, "You're wrong Sara. You'll never understand how much I had cared about you." With a deep breath he walked out of the apartment and slammed the door shut. After quickly walking to his car, he sped out of the parking lot. He just wanted to go home and take a long warm shower and forget that this day had ever happened.

Sara stared at the door unable to move for the longest time. When the realization of what Greg had just said sank in she rushed into the bedroom and threw on a sweat suit. Sara hurried outside to her car and drove as fast as the traffic allowed to his apartment. The thought that he might not let her in didn't occur to her. All she wanted to do now was to save what could be saved. Once she arrived at the complex that was so familiar to her now Sara jumped out of the car and ran to Greg's door. She rang the doorbell and waited for him to answer.

When Greg did not answer Sara fiddled for the keys in her purse deciding to let herself in. She opened the door slowly and peeked inside but Greg was nowhere in sight. Sara stepped inside and closed the door quietly.

After getting out of the shower Greg used a blue towel to quickly dry his hair and enough of his body that he would not drip water all over the floor between the bathroom and his bedroom, he then wrapped the towel around his waist. He felt much better after the shower, but the days events still weighed heavily on him. With a sigh he flipped the fan off, opened his bathroom door, and stepped out into his living area as he heard the sound of his front door closing. He immediately looked up to see Sara standing at his door looking at him with wide eyes. "Sara," he said. He instinctively grabbed a hold of the towel to make sure it stayed in place as his heart began to pound in his chest. "Don't you know how to knock?"

"I do and I did knock, but you didn't answer so I..." she could not avert her eyes from his half naked body. "I... let myself in."

"I'm sorry let me rephrase, do you always just enter apartments when the owner doesn't answer the door?" Her penetrating stare made him feel very uncomfortable. As she slowly walked toward him, he took a couple steps backward until he hit the wall a few feet away from the bathroom door. She, however, did not stop coming closer until she was a mere foot away from him.

"Here is your key." she dangled Greg's apartment keys in front of him but then changed her focus toward his shoulder. "You don't have any tattoos," she gave his shoulder a gentle touch.

Greg swallowed as she touched his shoulder. Her touch was electrifying and was making it hard for him to stay angry at her. "Wh... what are you talking about?"

"Your brother had tattoos on his shoulders," she moved her hand away. "I am sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned that."

"My brother," Greg questioned before realization dawned on him. "Oh you mean Shawn. I... I'm not used to having a brother. Do you like tattoos," he asked nervously. Her close proximity was unnerving, he could smell the fruity scent of her shampoo and found himself wishing her hand was still on his shoulder, before his rational side argued that he was supposed to be mad at her and not wishing for what would never happen.

"I do if they are tastefully done," she backed away from Greg knowing if she stood there any longer she could not guarantee any of her actions.

Greg relaxed slightly as she backed a few feet away from him. "So did you barge into my place to give me my keys or was there something else that you need?"

A long gaze from her dark eyes met his before she answered. "You, I need you."

"Wh... what?" he said wide eyed. She couldn't have just said what he thought she just said could she? No, he had to of heard her wrong. It was probably wishful thinking that caused his ears to malfunction at that moment.

"You had tattoos in my dreams," Sara's hungry eyes roamed across his bare chest and abdomen.

"You... I..." Greg shook his head to try and clear the cobwebs that seemed to have gathered there. The way she was looking at him now was worse than before; he could feel the butterflies stir in his stomach. "I do have a tattoo you know," he finally said. He groaned inwardly, why had he just told her that?

"You do?" Sara tried to imagine where since any uncovered piece of skin was free of tattoos as far as she could see, "Mind showing me?"

"No. I mean yes, yes I mind," he replied quickly. He wanted to kick himself for telling her, he knew she would ask to see it. "It's just a little one I got when I was drunk at college, it's nothing really," he explained hoping that she would not push the issue.

"I see," her chest moved quickly as her breathing quickened. It was difficult to stand in front of Greg with the urge to touch him, to feel his skin against hers. On impulse Sara stretched out her arm and let her finger glide across his collar bone.

Greg closed his eyes as he felt her hand on his skin again. He fought back the desperate urge to pull her close to him and kiss her; instead he opened his eyes and just stared at her and wondered what she was doing. Was she trying to drive him insane so she could hurt him more?

"Greg," Sara whispered. "I want to see your tattoo," her hand moved up to his neck and back down where it lingered on the back of his shoulder.

"No," Greg swallowed. "You would have to get to know me intimately in order to see it, and I know that you wouldn't..." he stopped talking as her gaze lowered to the towel that he still held tight against him with a death grip.

"Are you afraid of me?" her eyes gazed at him seductively with her head tilted upward. Sara lifted her other hand to trace the curve of his chin.

"I don't know should I be," he questioned. "You always refused to go out with me and you often had a tendency to say hurtful things to me, and then you tell me that you felt something for me. Why were you afraid to admit what you felt? You are acting like you are no longer afraid to admit it, but... I... after everything that has happened today, I can't handle any more pain," Greg explained.

Sara's hands explored his shoulders, arms and finally came to rest on his chest with her eyes downcast. "I never meant to hurt you. I was hurting myself, almost as if inflicting self punishment," she lifted her eyes to him. "I don't exactly remember when I started liking you like this, it just happened." her lips quivered for a moment. "It suddenly occurred to me that my feelings for you were more than I ever imagined and I am so incredibly sorry for all I said that day. I am not afraid anymore," Sara took Greg's hand in hers with a gentle but firm grip and began to lead him into the bedroom. "It is time I see your tattoo now."

Greg allowed Sara to lead him into his bedroom without complaint. He suddenly felt as if he was dreaming. Sara Sidle had just told him that she had strong feelings for her. He still was not sure about letting her see his tattoo, but he had always found it hard to say no to her whether she wanted him to process her evidence immediately or asked if he could share his Blue Hawaiian coffee with him. When they reached the bedroom Sara pushed him backward onto his bed. She stood looking down at him for a moment before she sat beside him on the bed and reached toward the towel that was still wrapped around his waist. "Sara," he started but stopped unsure what he really wanted to say.

"Shh," Sara placed her forefinger on his lips. "There is no need to say anything right now. We have time to talk later," her eyes were clouded with need. Before Greg was aware she pulled the towel off his hips to reveal his tattoo and watched his erection spring to life.

Greg closed his eyes as she took the towel off; afraid to see her reaction to his tattoo and the rest of him that was now bared to her. He had never been a very shy person, but she made him nervous that he wasn't good enough for her.

With her head cocked to one side Sara glanced at the tattoo at the base of his length. Just above the hairline a bull, steam blowing from his nostrils, looked at her. She traced the outline of the animal's body and the sign that symbolized the celestial sign for Taurus with her finger until she felt him quiver. "Uh, this is nice," she whispered hoarsely.

"You like it," Greg said opening his eyes as she began to trace the outline of the tattoo with her finger. "You know Zeus, the father of all Greek gods, saw women as a conquest so he decided one day to go and get Europa only to discover she was not willing to obey his sexual wishes. So he disguised himself as a bull and kidnapped her to have his way with her after all. One of my friends at college thought the story was interesting and thought since my sign is Taurus I should get a tattoo. He didn't think I would do it, but I was drunk and we were with another friend who was already getting one, and I just wanted to prove him wrong."

"I know the story." Sara stopped caressing the spot. "I love Greek Mythology. Zeus was quite the Casanova." her eyes were filled with sudden mirth. "So, will I be your Europa?"

Greg smiled his first true smile since he had returned to Vegas. "I would love for you to be my Europa, but unlike Zeus you are not just a conquest to me."

"I am glad," she returned his smile. "I like you the way you are."

"That's good," Greg said looking into her eyes from where he laid on the bed.

"Well we got that out of the way." her eyes once again roamed over his naked body while a smirk began to form on her lips. Sara laid her hands on Greg's chest and her fingers began to caress the smooth skin.

Greg closed his eyes and took a deep breath as Sara's warm hands slid across his heated skin. He bit his lip knowing that she had to of seen his erection by now. He wondered if it was normal for someone who just admitted they liked you to see you naked before you even go on a date with them.

Sara slipped next to him to press her lips gently onto his. Greg's lips felt soft and were only lightly moistened. He tasted just like he had in her dreams. When Sara lifted her head her eyes were alight with a fire he had not seen before.

Greg sighed as he felt Sara's lips press against his. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist and returned her kisses with all the passion that he had harbored for her since he had first met her three years ago. Kissing her was better than he had ever imagined.

"Finally I can feel you," Sara whispered as she nibbled on his ear lobe, her hot breath brushing his neck. "I want you so much."

"I've wanted you since the moment I first saw you," Greg said. "What do you mean you can finally feel me?"

"In my dreams..." she looked at Greg when she felt him tense. "In those dreams you and I... we... kissed and well..."

"You thought I was dead and you dreamt of kissing me," he said. "What if Shawn hadn't died? What if I came home from my vacation like normal? Would you even be here right now?" He felt suddenly like she was ripping his heart out of his chest. Even though she seemed willing to be with him the way he had always wanted her to, he couldn't stop the feeling that if things had been different that her lying next to him in his bed while he had no clothes on would be nothing more than a dream of his. He had realized long ago that dreams didn't come true.

"Yes, I would have," her voice carried not only conviction of her answer, but also a warmth that began to spread throughout her entire being. Sara looked deeply into Greg's eyes. "Would you like me to prove this to you?" her lips touched the skin on his shoulder lightly before she began to move her mouth toward the front of his neck and down to the middle of his chest while her hands weaved through Greg's hair.

"Sara," Greg said closing his eyes again. She was driving him nuts but if all this was, was a reaction to dreams that she had when she thought he was dead, he didn't want to deal with the pain when she came to her senses and realized that he was really alive and could no longer be what she was dreaming of. "You can't prove it, not unless you possess the power to turn back time and prevent Shawn's death."

"Greg, I can't turn back the clock as much as I would like to," her eyes sought his. "I am done telling you how sorry I am about everything. This is now and it's real, so take it or leave it." Sara's fingers danced across Greg's body in circular motions, her lips were slightly parted and her dark eyes looked at him with great intensity.

"Sara," he sighed. He couldn't believe he was about to say it, but he felt he had to for his own sanity. "I don't think I can do this. I lo... I care about you, but I don't want to be here when you realize that nothing has changed and you are still afraid to admit that you want anything to do with me. I think it's better to..." His words were cut short as she leant down and kissed him again.

Sara's head jerked up. Had she just hear right? Was he about to say those three little words? A tingle surged through her core as she leaned down to kiss him passionately.

Her kisses were more intense than before, so intense that he felt like he was drowning. She was the lake and she was winning the battle to gain control over him. If she didn't stop soon he would lose the battle and be lost in his own desires and all rational thoughts would plummet to the bottom of the lake.

Sara felt him relax. "Greg... I am not... afraid anymore," she said between kisses. She felt her desire for him rise like a tidal wave. "I want you more than you can imagine." Once again she trailed her kisses down his throat and chest.

Greg closed his eyes and tried to force his worries to the back of his mind and just enjoy the sensations she was bringing out in him. "Sara," he breathed as she kissed her way down his chest to where his tattoo was. He closed his eyes as he felt her lick the outline of the body art.

"What?" Sara mumbled while her tongue explored his tattoo and the surrounding skin.

"You're driving me crazy," he said. He was lost to her ministrations like a child lost in the woods.

"I am glad I do," she giggled like a school girl. "Let me show you what else I can do."

Greg gasped and grabbed a hold of his bed sheets as he felt Sara wrap her hand around his length. Then suddenly she took him into her mouth and began to slide her mouth up and down his erection. "Sara... oh god," he inhaled trying to control his breaths.

The smooth skin of his erect member teased her mouth as she took him all the way and then slid her lips up his shaft only to repeat the process over and over again. She caressed the inside of his thighs with one hand.

"Sara," Greg sighed grasping the sheets even tighter. "Stop, I'm going to... Ahh," he said as she sucked on his head. If she didn't stop he was going to explode into her mouth, but he was finding it hard to form coherent words as she brought him closer to the sweet release his body was screaming for.

Sara licked a few droplets off his tip before she stopped. Greg's face was screwed up in a pleasurable expression when she crawled up next to his body. She snuggled closely to him, kissing one of his erect nipples in a sucking motion.

"Sara," Greg gasped trying to bring his breathing under control as he let go of the sheets and wrapped his arms around her waist. "That was amazing. I think you are a bit over dressed though," he spoke, finally able to produce a coherent sentence. Suddenly he flipped her over so that she was on her back and pulled her sweat shirt over her head revealing her lacy bra, which left very little to the imagination. "Beautiful," he said as his gaze roamed over her chest.

"I am glad you like it. I just bought it the other day." she felt her nipples strain against the fabric of her bra when the cool air caressed her skin.

"I wasn't talking about the bra," Greg said as he lowered his head to kiss her erect nipple through the silky material. "You are beautiful Sara Sidle, my Europa," he grinned as he released her breast and unhooked the front clasp of her bra. "So beautiful," he mumbled as he lowered his mouth to take her nipple into his mouth again while he caressed the other one with his hand.

Little moans escaped her mouth. "Greg, I have been such a stupid, stupid girl," she mumbled while her fingers tousled his hair.

"Sh," he said lifting his head to look her in the eye. "We both did stupid things; we don't need to worry about that right now. Like you said we can't change the past, but we can make the future better." He gently kissed her lips and then moved down her body and pulled her sweat pants down her long legs. She wore a lacy pair of panties that matched the bra.

Her legs lifted to aid Greg while he removed her pants and she felt goose bumps form on her skin when his lips caressed her knees and slowly moved upward. "Oh Greg," she groaned.

Greg quickly removed her panties and began to alternate between kissing and licking his way up her leg until he reached the treasure he sought between her legs and continued his ministrations with furious rapture.

Sara's body twitched as she lifted her hips toward his mouth to allow him better access to her moist womanhood. The tingle she had felt before increased when Greg's tongue slipped over her soft flesh sending sensation through her body that almost made her scream.

Greg pulled away suddenly and looked into her dark eyes. Straddling her body, his erection hovering just above her entrance he hesitated. "I need you now," he breathed. "Are you ready for this?"

"Yes, I am," her voice was filled with want and need. Wrapping her legs around his back Sara pushed Greg down to her and gasped when she felt his length fill her completely.

He gasped as she took control and forced him to enter her as she wrapped her legs around him. No longer able to hold back he began to pull backward and slowly thrust forward again. He continued a slow rhythm at first, but soon began to push deeper and faster in a frantic pace born from years of yearning.

As their bodies moved together in the same rhythm she was rocked by the intensity of the feelings that swept through her - feelings that were by turns shaky, sure, gentle, savage, generous and greedy, but most of all Sara's love for Greg. Following his now more urgent thrusts Sara shivered beneath him as she surged upward repeatedly. Beads of sweat had formed on her body. Sara pulled his face to hers in another searing kiss until she felt the first spasm of pleasure rippling through her. "Faster, Greg, faster." she mumbled between lusty moans.

Knowing he was very close, he responded to her command by increasing his pace and moving inside of her as fast and he could. He had never had a sexual experience so intense before. She was the most amazing woman he had ever met. She took his breath away, but at the same time she breathed life into him making him feel more alive than he had felt in a long time. He felt Sara's orgasm as she screamed his name louder than he would have expected from her. If he had not been concentrating on what he was doing he might have been worried that his neighbors would hear her. Soon his own orgasm seized control of his body like a volcano exploding after lying dormant for so long.

When Sara finally let go and the ripples of ecstasy rippled through her she cried out his name over and over again with each new orgasmic wave that shook her body. She could feel his length pulsate inside her when Greg reached his own peak. And then it was over for both of them and they collapsed into each others arms, breath labored, eyes wide in wonder, they held each other close. Sara was spent and yet she felt more energized than in weeks. A smile crossed her face spreading from her lips to her eyes. "Greg," she whispered as she stroked his sweat drenched face.

"Yeah," Greg said holding her tight in his arms. He felt like if he could die in her arms right now and he'd die happier than he had ever been. He rubbed his fingertip back and forth over her smooth skin and looked into her dark eyes.

She looked at him with sparkling eyes. "I love you," her voice was barely audible.

Greg looked at her wide eyed. She couldn't have just said what he thought she just said. "Wh... what?"

"I love you," she repeated gently. "I have known for a long time but only now can I say it freely." Sara kissed his lips lightly as if to seal her words.

As she pulled away from him after the kiss he smiled, "I love you too Sara, I think I've loved you from the moment I first saw you." He pulled her closer to him enjoying the feeling of holding her in his arms. "If I would have known all had to do to get you in my bed was die, I would have faked my death years ago," he chuckled.

"It did finally bring me to my senses, didn't it?" she poked his chest. "Just don't do it again." his body felt warm and strong against hers and Sara could have lain there for all eternity, nestled next to Greg.

"I promise. I don't have any other twin brothers," he chuckled, "not that I know of anyway."

"Good," she suddenly giggled as she placed her soft lips on his neck.

"Sara," Greg said closing his eyes as he felt her lips touch his neck again. "I love you," he yawned. He already began to drift off to sleep.

"Let's catch some sleep." Sara snuggled even closer to him.

TBC


End file.
